Light of Our Ancestors
by CocoaOtaku
Summary: Aleyanerie is a mercenary and infamous pirateer from the tropical, distant desert lands of Zerrikania. On her journeys through the Northern Realms, she meets and makes many unexpected friends and enemies, experiencing new emotions and situations, perhaps even stumbling upon love. Iorveth and Original Character Romance
1. Chapter I: Somewhere Beyond The Sea

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the original Witcher characters in regards to both CD Projekt Red's video-game and Andrzej Sapkowski's literature series. This is for entertainment purposes only and no financial gain was or shall be sought from this work. I am only responsible for the events that take place and my own created characters.

 **Check my Tumblr page [CocoaOtaku] for Aleyanerie's character profile and image reference.**

 **::**

 **Chapter I**

 **Somewhere Beyond The Sea**

I was the first to rise. The white sunlight of the morning streamed through the windows of my cabin, illuminating dust particles as the air slowly moved across the room, a low, rumbling creak reverberating through the wooden floorboards as the ship swayed to and fro. It had been a surprisingly peaceful evening; the sea had decided to treat us kindly, gently rocking us towards our destination as his partner, the sea breeze, encouragingly pushed us along with her guiding hands. We were travelling westwards, a foreign destination both enticing and unnerving circled and pinned on the parchment map laid out before me on my desk as I studied the course for the umpteenth time.

Temeria.

I had but only heard stories about the land of the Nordlings. A land full of men with skin as bleached and bright as new parchment, the hair on their heads yellow like straw. A land full of lush, green forests and vast grasslands peppered with flowers, violet, red, gold and blue...men and women who looked human but had the disconcerting, staring yellow eyes of rabid beasts, their hair as white as milk. The stories that my mother had whispered to me as she held me when I was small remained with me forever. They had been the basis of my dreams when I closed my eyes at night and my daydreams of travelling for as long as I could remember...a deep-rooted longing and burning sensation to realise these dreams had shortly followed, but it had never occurred to me that I would actually have the chance to.

A slow yawn escaped me as I stretched, slowly rising from my heavy, oaken chair and stepping towards the rusty mirror on the back of my cabin's door to gaze at my reflection. I had not had much of a chance to preen or pamper myself throughout the past few weeks; the sea had seemed angered for most of our journey until now, battering my ship left and right like a cat with a mouse in his paws. There had been no sleep for me, only keeping a close eye on my tiring crew and barking various orders when necessary. We were all exhausted, our current journey being our longest expedition at sea and it had already been eight weeks. Rations were low and the men had long stopped singing their heart-felt, _acapella_ sea ballads, the only sounds emitted from their mouths being grumbles, groans or a mumbled "Aye, _kaptan!"_ when given an order.

My eyes had dark rings beneath them this morning. It was a gift that my skin had been further darkened by the harsh sun, almost disguising all of my blemishes beneath my milky brown hue. My hair, however, had been lightened by the sun...my natural dark locks were similar to my mother's when loose; coiled curls that resisted and rebelled when brushed but enjoyed humidity, water and demanded constant care with various fragrant oils such as coconut, orange and almond. But for the past decade, I had donned long, thick matted hair...neat dreadlocks adorned with wooden and golden charms, often carelessly tied into an unruly bun atop my head but settling just above my waist when unbound.

My mother was Zerrikanian...a human and the daughter of a wealthy silk and spice merchant who had constantly been on the road. They had travelled together with his employees through the Korath Desert in order to sell their many wares to the many countries of the Northern Kingdoms and; Redania, Cintra and Temeria being just a few. It was on her travels in Temeria that my mother met my father. I have never met him. My mother believed that it was my right to know the truth from an early age; that she and my grandfather had been travelling with their company for four years, earning their wealth and importing goods from our country to theirs. In the last two years of her journey, she had met a man as they passed through one of the woods in Aedirn...average height, pale skin, and thick deep brown hair...with eyes like mine; large, olive green eyes that she said reminded her of opals. They had constantly met in secret whenever possible, sneaking and tiptoeing around and keeping their relationship as quiet as possible.

She had only realised that she was with child once she and my grandfather had set sail back to Zerrikania. And by then it was too late to find and tell my father. He had never known...he still did not know.

And he had been what they call _Aen Seidhe_. An elf.

 **::**

I carelessly tied my hair up with a length of deep red silk, tightening the ornate belt of my _janbiya_ around my waist as I pushed open the door to my cabin. The air was fresh and light upon my face; the smell of seaweed and salt a comforting and familiar scent that excited me. The sea was my home. I paused in the doorway, bringing one hand to my forehead to shade my eyes from the sunlight as I squinted up at the bright blue sky. It was to be a clear last day at sea, no clouds in sight, only the silhouettes of a flock of seagulls soaring against the sun as their distant, ugly squawks announced their presence.

"Good morning, Leya." Asmaya, my first officer lowered her head in a slight bow then looked up with a toothy grin and an excited glint in her eyes as she handed me a large wooden goblet, full of steaming liquid, "The look-out has sighted land! We are but hours away!" she stepped aside to walk with me as we strode towards the forecastle deck, greeting all thirteen members of the crew as they noisily ate an improvised breakfast of tough, dried goat meat and black bread. I leant on the wooden railings and smiled, the many small golden hoops in my earlobes gently chiming as my movements caused them to clink and sway, "I can almost smell the riches...", I turned to Asmaya who smirked, "Although we both know that that is not the only reason why you decided to set sail for these countries..." I nodded, staring into the bottomless sea as the waves lapped and licked at my ship's wooden hull. It was true that part of me was curious to find my father - I bear him no grudge, as he simply did not know. It was obvious that both my mother and father believed their relationship to be fleeting; merely a few months or years of young love and passion before they both headed towards their separate futures. But half of my identity had yet to be discovered...it was almost as if I could not know myself fully until I had at least attempted to find the side of my blood which had bestowed my pointed ears and green eyes upon me.

Asmaya cleared her throat, breaking my line of thought, "We should prepare ourselves for a hostile welcome...I imagine that we are not to be an expected nor familiar sight." I squinted, furrowing my brow whilst fumbling through the tobacco pouch at my waist, "We are but a group of merchants...traders from Zerrikania, I do not see how or why those at the harbour would think otherwise." I noticed her frown as she too fished for her own tobacco and smoking pipe. We both had abstained from breakfast for the past week. With rations being so low, there had not been enough food for everyone on board to eat. In order to keep our crew healthy and happy, our breakfast consisted simply of a long smoke and bitter, black tea brewed from dried mint leaves. I angled the suns rays into my tinder box until the embers glowed a bright orange, then lit Asmaya's pipe, watching as she took a slow drag, her deep brown eyes never leaving mine, "I must warn you, _sadikati,_ the Nordlings do not look upon elves as friends." I drew from my ivory pipe, exhaling, "I am no elf." My friend snorted, eyeing my ears and laughing as I scowled deeply, "If those large, pointy ears do not make you an elf, then-"

"I know nothing of their culture, their lands or their plight. I have only seen elves accompanying Nordlings who have visited Zerrikania with their slaves or prostitutes."

"It does not matter what you think you are. It only matters what _they_ think. And according to their views, you fit the description of an elf. A _half-elf_." She paused, retying her velvet tobacco pouch with a small length of coarse cord, her thick, cropped hair moving in the breeze, "Even the elves themselves may distrust you. Just as the humans hate the elves...the elves hate the humans, as it has been for centuries. They will not accept you, you do not even speak Elder Speech. Perhaps concentrating on finding just the treasures..."

I glared angrily, causing her to trail off and lower her eyes. My voice raised slightly as my temper flared, "I know of the struggles. I do not need _you_ to recite them to me and I don't need you to lecture me." I leaned close to her, "The map points us towards two treasures – an abundance of riches and my heritage. We _will_ find both." I turned on my heel and down the wooden stairs leading to the main deck, feeling Asmaya's eyes on me as I left her.

We do not consider ourselves pirates. We are merely mercenaries who often pose as merchants, and traders. Our stock is almost always stolen goods, but we do not consider ourselves criminals or low-life thieves. Merely...opportunists. I had been introduced to this life at the age of seventeen after my mother had passed. Once my grandfather had discovered that my mother was with child, he had disowned her, casting her to the streets in shame, never to be seen again. My mother, Hiba, had refused to sell her body for money and insisted that we look for work in the main cities of Zerrikania. For most of my life, we worked in cloth manufacturers; dying silk and cotton, weaving wicker baskets and taking them to sell at market, keeping none of the profits and paid little by our employers. I don't like to talk about how she died, it is a part of my memory that I have blocked out over time. But it is after her death that my life took a change. I did not want to remain poor. My mother had worked hard to provide for us both, but I deserved a better life. I deserved far more, and it is after I met the infamous sailor Abd Al-basir of Zangwebar that things started improving. But that is not a story I wish to dwell on at this moment in time.

I took another drag from my pipe, walking slowly down the stairs towards the main deck, my crew silencing and standing to their feet as they saw that I wished to address them, " _Dehna ad'erachu_." I said loudly, the crew echoed my words in chorus, sitting back down as I raised my hand slightly, signalling them to sit and make themselves comfortable again. "We are to make the preparations to land soon as we are about to come into contact with one of the main ports at the coast..." I paced, smoking from my pipe, watching as the crew followed me with their eyes. "I want you on your best behaviour. As advised by my first officer, we are not to expect a warm welcome from the harbour. If asked, we are simply spice merchants from Zerrikania and Zangwebar. If they wish to further enquire, send them to me and I will direct them to the hold. We have sixty barrels full of of mint, cumin, sugar, ginger and cinnamon for their confirmation with a half-barrel of pearls. These will be sold at the markets in Vizima in order to raise more revenue for our expedition." The men remained silent and I smiled, "Once settled, we shall celebrate our safe arrival to these strange lands. I know that this has been a long journey, so before we leave the city, I want us all to be well rested with bellies full of warm food and cold beer."

"Thank you, _kaptan!"_ One of the men yelled from the front, "If I could suggest that the celebrations include a selection of some of the local delicacies...soft, round, warm and curvy?" The rest of the men cheered, bursting into laughter as I gave a small smile, half-nodding, opening my mouth to answer only to be interrupted.

"It's been extremely... _hard_ for us these past few months, _kaptan!"_ another added gleefully, an eruption of cackling and giggles as the men swayed in their seats at the thoughts of finally satisfying their urges. Being on a large ship alongside twelve other men and two untouchable women for over a month, it was only understandable that this was the first thought on their minds and I knew that Asmaya had also been constantly bringing up the idea that she may take the most good-looking of the crew and have her way with him.

My crew disgusted me. My crew was nothing like that of Abd Al-basir's majestic ship ten years ago...there was no honour here. Excluding Asmaya and perhaps two crewmen, my ship was made up of only shallow, greedy, violent and untrustworthy individuals that thought of nothing but money, self-gratification and short-term pleasures. The most loyal and reliable of my crew members had since been either killed in battle or hanged by the government during the five years I had been considered the new "chief of the seas." Most of the men here were former navy members who had been enticed to join me. Mercenaries bought only by the idea of chasing legendary riches, sea battles and exotic women alongside the infamous, female pirate Aleyanerie. There is no honour here.

 **::**

We arrived at the harbour of Bremervoord in the late afternoon yet the port was still bustling with activity nonetheless. Military tall ships with great white sails and smaller trading ships, much like ours, were docked there, their brightly coloured flags flapping in the warm breeze as traders and soldiers alike strode onto land or aboard their ships, their footsteps loud against the wooden planks. Constant chattering, yelling and laughing intertwined with the melodies of a flock of seagulls above the gentle swishing and swashing of the sea.

I stood tentatively next to the gangway, leaning with both hands on the wooden balustrade of the ship, watching as the burliest men of my crew tied us to huge bollards on land. All of the faces here were pale, as I had imagined. Pale as snow with lips pink and thin, their hair straight and brown, blonde, black or red. There were no fellow Zerrikanians in sight here, and we were receiving a lot of interested and anxious glances from passersby; soldiers eyeing up my crews sabres with uneasy gazes and blatantly staring at my attire with expressions that resembled distaste and intrigue as I stood waiting for an official to greet me. I breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of smoked fish, spices and salty air as I kept my eyes on the small, hollow-cheeked man scuttling up the gangway to meet me. "Welcome to Bremervoord..." the man mumbled anxiously, shuffling the papers in his hands as he scrutinized me with watery blue eyes, the corners wrinkling as they narrowed slightly, lingering on my ears. He was dressed plainly in brown breeches, worn leather boots and an unpressed cream shirt, his grey hair tied neatly into a ponytail, a large goosefeather quill tucked behind his ear. The old man cleared his throat and handed me the papers, "Sign where asked to." he did not look at me as he handed me the quill, deliberately angling his hand so that his hand did not have to touch my own. I read the papers quickly, insuring that they were simply a docking permit and handed them back to the little man who had stood wringing his hands and staring into space as I wrote. He snatched them back, glancing over my handiwork, "A Zerrikanian trader ship..." he looked up at me, "We hadn't been expecting any of those today, what have you on board?" I paused, slowly folding my arms, "We are spice traders...we do not usually travel to these parts but were informed that Bremervoord was a prestigious centre for trade. Ten barrels of mint, cumin, ginger and cinnamon. Twenty barrels of sugar. One half barrel of pearls. If you wish to see for yourself, they are in the hold." I gestured towards the hold with my hand and he sniffed delicately, "No need." and shuffled from the boat without so much a glance in my direction.

 **::**

The evening came quickly and despite the looks from many citizens of the city, we were left to keep to ourselves. Already I had noticed how the attitudes held towards me were different...strange and foreign it was to me to be leered at so often with contempt. In both Zerrikania and across the sea in Zangewebar, I was feared and respected. Many stories of my time at sea and various battles with the government had reached the ears of even the poorest peasants in the largest cities, many of them being untrue hyperboles. But it had rendered me almost untouchable as no-one dared to cross the path of the infamous Aleyanerie; the mistress of the seas, breaker of boats and slayer of both men and monsters. I almost laughed to myself as we entered a small tavern named "The Blackened Pearl," the men chatting amongst themselves idly, making eyes at the various women we passed along the way. The tavern was loud; a bard telling tales in the corner by the empty fireplace, lightly strumming his lute as he sang about dragons, kings and spirits of the sea, the light low with candles flickering here and there as groups roared with laughter, played card games and drinking until their cheeks were red. My crew seated themselves in a quiet corner, causing a ruckus as they ordered several beers alongside numerous plates of sliced sausages on beds of crisp salad, legs of grilled lamb encrusted in herbs and dripping with hot fat, mountains of herring in oil and onions with various cheeses, breads and cakes to accompany. All were shamelessly flirting with the young waitresses as they bought their many mugs of beer and plates of food, joyously enjoying having finally set foot on solid ground.

After caving into the request that I drink at least one alcoholic beverage with the crew, the men cheering as I downed the last dregs of ale from my mug, Asmaya and I retired to our own corner, ordering large bowls full of barley broth boiled with fatty chunks of beef and carrots and plate full of fresh _pierogi_. "We're getting a lot of attention, it is almost as if the citizens had never seen a brown face before," Asmaya wistfully slurped a spoonful of her broth, crossing her legs as she picked up the bowl to drink the remains. I chewed tentatively, glancing quickly in both directions, "We are being watched." I lowered my voice, my gaze fixed on a group of three red-faced, off-duty city guards who were leaning back in their chairs, legs spread wide open with lazy expressions of contempt spread across their faces. I caught the eye of the tallest; a blond, bulky man with a deep, crimson scar running from his left earlobe to his chin. He would have been handsome except for the fact that his contorted expression was distorting his features. I rolled my eyes, picking up the wooden bowl of broth in both hands and drinking the leftovers only to then hear the scraping of chairs and hard boots against wooden floorboards approaching our table.

The blond man put a sturdy, scarred hand on the back of my chair, blocking any way of escaping and peered down at me from under a heavy brow, "I fucked a she-elf once...I daresay I would like to do so again..." He sneered, flinching as Asmaya suddenly bounded from her seat, one hand on the hilt of her _janbiya_ dagger, the other grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck, "Do you not know who you are addressing?" she hissed, bringing her face close to his, "If you want a fight, I will take you." She took a step closer, "I will drag you from this shithole of a tavern, hang you from a tree by your feet, skin you and leave you for the insects and birds." The man pushed her from him, a dark expression falling across his face as his two companions 'oohed' at her threat, nudging one another in the ribs and chuckling to themselves, hands now on the hilts of their own swords. The taller man smirked, "It is not often I come across women as beautiful and feisty as yourself." he straightened his shirt, Asmaya loudly scoffing as she stared him down. He paused, "However, you and your knife-eared whore need to leave. Elves are not welcome in this tavern, as you can see..." He gestured towards the rest of the pub, pointing out that no other non-humans had dared to enter. There was a silence as Asmaya looked from me to the man, silently asking me what our next move was.

I stood slowly, my blood boiling and the tips of my ears burning. Never had I been so insulted or degraded. I squared up to the man, breathing deeply as I tried to contain my temper, fists clenching and unclenching. In the past, I would have dragged the twat outside and cut his throat without a second thought, however, time and experience had taught me that I must be calculated and that I must be controlled, especially when in the lands of foreigners. My voice was loud and confident, silencing the rest of the tavern and causing everyone to turn and look upon the situation, "You will get out of my face right now, you insolent little shit. Or I will kill you." His friends cackled with laughter, the man nervously joining them, never taking his eyes off of me, occasionally glancing at my sabre. He ground his teeth, obviously not accustomed to back-chat from those he considered to be second-class citizens, the muscle in his jaw twitching furiously as the tension between us rose. Out of nowhere, he sprang at me, grasping my wrist tightly enough to bruise the skin and began twisting my arm as if to break it. I lifted my knee to his crotch, his balls crunching as it impacted and felt him loosen his grip as he fell to the ground, his hands moving to cradle his injured parts. Just as his friends readied themselves to join in, I stamped on the man's wrist with my full weight and ground my heel as hard as I could, feeling the bones break and crunch beneath my foot. His agonising scream deterred the two men who stopped in their tracks, further scared by the sight of my crew scrambling to my aid. I leaned down and lifted up the blond man's chin with a finger in order to angle his face towards mine, "If there is a next time, I will break your fucking neck." He whimpered, tears of pain streaming from his reddening eyes and I dropped his head, turning to my crew, signalling for us to leave before the situation escalated further, watching as Asmaya kicked him in his side and spat on him.

As we had left, various angry insults were hurled at me from ignorant witnesses, "Ugly elf whore!", "Ploughin' piece of pointy-eared pig-shit!" and many more I do not care to waste time remembering. I had realised that the relations between elves and men would be different here, but I had not known that it would be so immature and baseless.

The evening air was warm, a cool gentle wind carrying the scent of the sea throughout the city as household fires and candles were lit casting orange glows and dark shadows across the city paths. "We need to find somewhere to stay for tonight, _kaptan._ " The largest member of the crew's name was Ezana; a broad, large dark man with square features and a thick, coarse-haired beard to compliment his hairless head. His eyes were black as coal, small and deep-set, and his broad smile peppered with gold teeth, one with a tiny ruby set into it's centre. I had met him two years ago on one of the small islands a few miles away from the coast of Zerrikania; a blacksmith by trade who had gotten into trouble with the local moneylenders when his business had started to fail. In return for his labour at sea for a year, a small sum of gold and an assortment of weaponry, I had agreed to dispose of the gang. He had kept his word and decided that he wanted to stay as a member of my crew beyond the contract, proving himself to be an adept and skilled sailor and enjoyable company. Yet I still did not trust him.

"Mhm." I said in agreement, then turned to the crew, "To the next tavern." The men followed wordlessly, none daring to comment on the racist escapade that had just occurred. Their conversations picked up again as we set off through the city streets in search of lodgings, avoiding any taverns which seemed to be overrun with drunk guardsmen or off-duty soldiers. As we turned another corner, a hand grabbed at my shoulder, "Wait, _ffrind!_ " my hand automatically flew to my _janbiya_ dagger, a tight grip forming on the hilt, only to loosen when the woman retracted slowly with her hands in the air, "I'm no enemy of yours, _ffrind,_ " she said breathlessly, her breathing fast, indicating that she had been running after us. She was petite; small in both size and stature with sharp features, pallid skin and large hazel eyes, her blonde hair loose except for two braids at her brow. Her ears were pointed, like mine, and pierced once with simple, silver studs. I relaxed, Asmaya striding to my side with folded, expectant arms, "My name is Aelwen." she stated, eyeing the crew warily, "A friend of mine saw what happened in The Blackened Pearl...not exactly the warmest of welcomes really," she laughed nervously, then cleared her throat. "If you're looking for a place to stay, you're in the wrong part of the city. My friend sent me to take you to the non-human enclave, he wishes to meet with you. It'll be safer for you there, Ms...?" I studied her face for a few seconds then bowed slightly, "Leya. My name is Leya...and this is Asmaya and my crew."

We followed the young elf-woman closely, the size of the group drawing attention from many of the night-dwellers around the city. She turned to me as we walked beneath a bridge and smiled, "You must be from across the sea. I hope that you don't mind me saying; I've never met anyone with skin like yours before, let alone an elf...sorry, half-elf. It's intruiging, almost like the colour of dark honey." She stared at me a little longer, taking in every last bit of my features, Asmaya and Ezana rolling their eyes together at the corner of my vision. "I don't know if I consider myself an elf," I stated lowly, "I have never been asssociated with that side of my family. I know nothing of your customs, language or..." Aelwen shook her head, "With ears like yours, there is no-one who would not consider you an elf here." she looked up at me, "It seems that you would have to learn to accept this. Here you are not _dh'oine._ "

We arrived at the tavern; a narrow, wooden building with many windows on it's three storeys, each with a bright, light warm glowing inside. Music, cheering and the sloshing of liquids escaped from the open window on the lowest floor, melding with the sweet smells of grape wine and apple cider.

"You'll find a dwarf here called Aggi , _ffrind."_ The elf said, holding the door open for my companions and I as we entered. "He can help you find what you are looking for...he knows of your map." And with that, she left as quickly as she had arrived, disappearing silently into the shadows as she left us to our fate.

 _ **Kaptan** \- __Captain_

 ** _Sadikati -_** _My friend_

 _ **Dehna ad'erachu** \- __Good Morning_

 _ **Janbiya** \- __A specific type of dagger with a short curved blade and a medial ridge_

 _ **Asmaya** \- __AS-MY-AH_

 _ **Pierogi** \- __Polish_ _dumplings traditionally stuffed with potato filling, sauerkraut, ground meat, cheese, or fruit._

 _ **Ffrind** \- __Friend_


	2. Chapter II: Journey Into Fire

A long chapter but hopefully worth the reading! Iorveth finally meets Leya...but what is her first impression of the elf?

 **Check my Tumblr for image references:** CocoaOtaku

 **Chapter II**

 **Journey Into Fire**

The stout, broad shouldered dwarf slammed his pint of bitter ale onto the wooden table, liquid sloshing over the sides of the tankard as he threw back his bearded head and roared with laughter at his own anecdote. A few droplets splashed onto my face and I daintily wiped them away with the back of my hand, tears running from the corners of my eyes as I laughed uncontrollably, watching with blurred vision as Aggi took another large gulp from his mug. The laughter around the table subdued and we gradually fell silent, ears and eyes focused on the dwarf as he nodded his head in satisfaction before leaning back in his chair with folded arms, a serious look falling upon his face.

He was almost as tall as I; thick-bodied and with a mass of reddish-brown hair upon both his head and his chin, his beard tangled and unruly except for a single plait towards the end of his growth, fastened with an an ornate silver brooch. His left ear was mangled, chewed up and misshapen, the scar tissue a deep red – a reminder, he had told us all darkly, of his alleged lone battle with a flock of Harpies during his travels through the Northern Realms. The dwarf was friendly enough; gruff and battle-worn, but full of warmth and thrilling tales of his journeys and conquests across the lands. We had been trading stories for a good few hours since Aelwen had led us to the tavern; the candles burning low and the last of the drinkers stumbling or crawling towards the door as they made their way home. He had spotted us earlier whilst making a produce delivery for his employer at The Blackened Pearl; despite not welcoming non-humans amongst their customers, the owners could not seem to get enough of the local Dwarven bakery's pies...

I leant across the table, lowering my voice, "Your friend, Aelwen, told me that you somehow know of the map I hold in my possession..." Aggi grunted, clearing his throat as he shifted in his seat, fidgeting to get comfortable, "If we may talk in private?" I shifted my eyes from his great belly to his furrowed brow, then turned to my crew, " You may leave us." I said, with a gentle wave of my hand, only Asmaya remaining behind as the men scrapped back their chairs from the table, "It might be wise to rest as tomorrow we begin our expedition." My crew retired noisily to their rented rooms situated on the second floor of the tavern, a few staying behind to smoke by the fire a way away from where we sat with Aggi. "Now we are alone, I can steer the conversation towards that map of yours," the dwarf placed his elbows onto the table, linking his ring bearing fingers and bringing them to his mouth. "That map belonged to a dwarven merchant, if you can call him that, named Fido Bergfalk - the scummiest ploughing dwarf in all the lands if I may say so. I remember as clear as day when he found it." I laughed slightly, taking a sip from my small goblet of wine, "Why would you say that?" the dwarf pulled a face, demonstrating his disgust and breathed deeply.

"I used to be a travelling merchant before I injured my leg and joined the bakery...part of Fido's "family" as he used to call us. He was a trickster. A dwarf with no shame, travelling the lands selling any old bric-a-brac he stumbled upon and labelling it as 'magical' or attaching it to an elaborate story or legend. He bragged about selling that map to you. And seeing you in that pub, I had no doubt that you were Aleyanerie Nazeer, you have a certain air about you...and there could be no other reason why a group of Zerrikanian pirates would have arrived at Bremervoord so unannounced...I had to meet you." He held my gaze with deep blue eyes and stroked his beard, "That map of yours is a fake."

I took a deep breath as my stomach dropped and began tying itself into knots, "That cannot be, I-"

"At least...it is _meant_ to be a fake." Aggi chuckled, "But what Fido didn't know is that the legend attached to this item is true...he found it when scouring a forgotten, elven settlement at the foot of the Blue Mountains." Asmaya tapped her foot impatiently, frowning, "May I ask if you could get to the point – do you know where the caves are or not? " I gave her a piercing look and she shrugged, "I don't see why we should pussy-foot around the reason why we are sat here talking; either the dwarf knows or he does not."

Aggi ignored Asmaya's impatience and expectantly held out a thick fingered hand. I reached into the leather travel pouch loosely tied to my waist and rummaged for the small square of battered parchment, gently placing the map into his calloused hand, watching as he unrolled the minuscule illustration onto the table, using our goblets and tankards as paper weights. He stroked his beard again, narrowing his eyes as he studied the scrawled, inked markings with keen eyes and hummed to himself. "Here..." he pointed to an area within Aedirn and I stood up, leaning over the map and squinting to see where his finger had landed. "Dol Blathanna?" I scanned the map, tucking a lock behind my ear and looking at the dwarf expectantly, " _That_ is where our treasures lie? The Valley of Flowers?" Aggi scratched his head slowly and leant back in his chair, folding his arms again, "Before I reveal anymore of the map's meaning...I want to make you a deal." I sat down slowly, mockingly clicking my tongue and smiling widely as I crossed my legs, "As if I would expect any less from dwarven folk. Of course, present your proposal." Aggi grinned, his teeth yellow from constant smoking and drinking, one of his lower molars blackened by neglect, "I will lead you to the treasure, if I am to receive a percentage of the takings. A modest quarter of the riches would be enough for any dwarf to lead a comfortable life if what the legends say are true..." Asmaya looked at me in disbelief, "How are we to trust a man we have just met? He could be leading us anywhere. I say we promise him nothing and wait until we have reached our destination before making any such deal. Wh-"

"I accept your deal, dwarf." I held out my hand and he took mine, tightly shaking it as Asmaya watched in dismay, " _Kaptan_ , a quarter of the riches...we do not know what we will find. How can we be sure-"

"If it wasn't for Aggi, we would not even be able to _find_ the riches. A quarter is nothing, kindly hold your damn tongue." I snarled, glaring at Asmaya as she glowered back at me, her nostrils flaring slightly as she contained her anger, grinding her teeth but backing down, "Yes, _Little Swallow_ , anything for you," she sneered. I ignored her comment. She was grating; like an older sister who felt she must always be right.

I cleared my throat, "You were saying that the riches lie in Dol Blathanna...?" Aggi paused, nodding his head from side to side uncertainly, "Well...as legend states, I know that the ruins lie close to the feet of the Blue Mountains...as they are elven ruins, it would only make sense for Glyn'dwr Gate to be close by ..." the dwarf trailed off into a mumble as he saw my expression darken, "You don't know exactly where they are, do you?"

Asmaya snorted, shaking her head but keeping her mouth shut as instructed. Aggi sighed, "Look, we will travel to Dol Blathanna. And we shall speak to the elves...they are bound to know where the legend points to. At least I hope so..." he muttered the last part of his sentence, lowering his eyes and playing with his beard, "I know an elf there by the name of Garth. He's an old friend, once we show him this map, he will know _exactly_ where to take us, I'm sure of it!"

" _We?_ " Asmaya spat, "You keep saying _'we'_ like you're coming with us, dwarf." she shifted in her seat, "Who said that we would be bringing you along?" She dragged her eyes from his feet to his head and sniffed contemptuously, "With that chewed up leg of yours, I don't see how you could even keep up anyhow." She slumped back into her chair and chewed frustratedly on her bottom lip, her expression settling into a dissatisfied scowl.

"You will come with us. And if this elf-friend of yours does not exist or if the caves are not where you and he say they are...have you heard of Zerrikanian fire-ants? A single bite is as painful as a lash from a whip and their venom is highly toxic - but kills slowly." Aggi stayed silent and unmoving as I leant across the table, my narrowed eyes boring into his.

"For deceiving me and wasting my time, I will strip you naked and tie you down to a fire-anthill, face smeared with honey. I like you Aggi, but do not break my trust."

::

 _Deep in the Blue Mountains He lies in wait,_

 _The great rock dragon, keeper of Glyn'dwr Gate._

 _With scalding fires and tempestuous roar,_

 _with impenetrable skin and unbreakable claw._

 _With gold and riches, sweet wines and ale._

 _Offerings of fair maidens to forge peace and wish well._

 _Deep in the Blue Mountains He lies in wait,_

 _Waldzist, the great rock dragon, keeper of Glyn'dwr Gate._

I had dreamt of dragons this night. My mother had said that dreaming of dragons was a sign of good things to come, of wishes to be granted. In fact, most people in Zerrikania believed that dreaming of the magnificent creatures was a blessed and consecrated occurrence. Yet this had been a nightmare; the dragon from the legend of our destination seemed to be warning me, telling me to turn back and make my way home across the seas, it's blue, ashen face twisted and contorted, shifting in and out of clarity as fire and smoke curled and sparked from it's open mouth. It had been a disturbing image that had caused me to toss and turn all throughout the night. I opened my eyes and sat up, pulling the sweat drenched nightshirt from my body and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, breathing slowly and deeply; in, out, in, out. I retched, gripping the side of the bed as a sudden wave of nausea caused a tide of saliva to rise in my mouth and swallowed, bringing my head between my knees and gritting my teeth as I squeezed my eyes shut. The nausea passed and I threw myself back onto the linen sheets to stare at the oak rafters above me, following a trail of dust flecked spiders web with my eyes. The dream had surely meant something. Perhaps a sign of change. Drastic change.

Or perhaps it was simply that. A dream.

Nothingness.

I furrowed my brow and pressed my lips to the small gold dragon that hung from the thin chain around my neck, it's tiny ruby eyes glinting in the dawn light.

::

"Get the _fuck_ away from my ship!" I roared, taking a step towards the unflinching city-guard blocking my way to the gangway. "What is it you want? This man can show you the signed documents. I have permission to dock here!" I thrust my arm towards the short, grey-haired man who had greeted me upon arrival and he looked away, sticking his ugly, prominent nose into the air as if to taunt me. The guard before me straightened up, sticking out his wide chest, "Your ship and cargo has been confiscated and is now in possession of the Bremervoord city-guardsmen until all issues have been cleared and clarified. There is no evidence that this is your ship, elf. Nor that you have been granted permission to even be here, we have also had no confirmation of your licence." Asmaya paced behind me, her right hand on the hilt of her sabre; she stopped and glared at the guard, hand twitching as if deciding whether to attack him or not, then breathed out sharply and carried on pacing. "We also have reason to believe that you are a spy for the Scoia'tael. You shall be considered guilty until proven innocent and held in custody." I brought my face close to the guards and still he refused to move, "Listen you putrid son of a whore, my crew will not hesitate to gut you if you do not move. I am-"

Before I could say another word, one of my crewman had uttered a guttural cry, drawn his sabre and hacked the hand off of one of the six guards in front of our ship. Instantly a riot began and I glanced to my right to see that the old man, who had been the first Nordling to greet us, had been cut down by another member of my crew, his neck a gaping wide gash, crimson blood draining onto the dock and dripping into the sea, slowly staining the water a deep red. Screaming began as civilians noticed the bloodshed and people began running from the scene, soldiers joining the fight against my crew; slashing and cutting them down, diminishing my numbers immensely. I drew my own sabre, backing off from the fight and stood on top of some abandoned wooden crates, "Stop!" I snarled, but none of my crew could hear me over the clashing and screeching of steel on steel and the bloodcurdling screams of the six guardsmen as they were cut to pieces. Either that, or they had refused to listen, excited by bloodlust and a need for violence. I grabbed Asmaya by her shoulder, "We will _all_ be killed if they don't stop this. We must leave at once." I locked eyes with Ezana who sheathed his two swords and ran over to join us, "There are soldiers on their way, look." he jerked his head towards a troop of twenty-five fully armoured men marching in straight lines towards the commotion, their helmet's peacock feather plumes bouncing in time with each step. "I must at least retrieve some more coin and my charts...with the cargo confiscated, we have no source of revenue. My bow and quiver are also still in my cabin, I cannot leave without them. You are to leave as soon as an opening arrives. Meet me at Aggi's home." I sprinted towards the gangway, shoving past the members of my crew who had so foolishly killed all six of the guardsman. I would have nothing to do with them now. If the princedom's laws required them to be executed, so be it. Men without honour and dignity were not worthy of a place in my crew or on my ship.

Fumbling for the keys to my cabin, I quickly unlocked the heavy wooden door, immediately heading for the trunk beside my bed. The bow had been a gift from Abd Al-Basir; an ornate recurved bamboo bow, engraved with curls, swirls and tiny birds. The arrows I made myself; carved from pine with iron swallow-heads, the fletching always swallow feathers. He had called me his "Little Swallow" when I had been aboard his ship, a name which Asmaya had mocked and mimicked whenever Abd had been out-of-sight. He said it was because I had reminded him what it was to feel free again...and that if I was ever to leave him, he knew that I would come back to him. I wasn't quite sure what he had meant, but it had seemed affectionate enough; although I knew that his feelings for me had made Asmaya deeply jealous. She had pined and longed for him long before before I had stepped foot onto his ship.

I stuffed my nautical charts into my travel bag, and quickly dressed into my armour; slipping the ironwire hauberk beneath my green tunic and over my undershirt; pulling the lamellar on top and tying a hardened leather gauntlet onto my left arm to protect my skin from the bowstring. It took me a lot longer than I had anticipated to gather my things and by the time I had finished, the soldiers had already made it to where the six dead guardsmen lay on the dock, their broken bodies bloody and lying at odd angles. "Stay where you are!" the captain of the troop barked, pointing his sword at me as I rushed down the gangway, "You are all under arrest by command of Captain Josef of Bremervoord! For the murder of six guardsmen, two Northern Soldiers, fraternising with the Scoia'tael and violation of the current Harbour and Docking Acts, you are all to be considered enemies of the Northern Realms and executed without trial at dusk. Any resistance will result in your immediate death." The soldiers started to close in on my crew. I didn't watch and wait to see the outcome, blocking out the pathetic yells of " _Kaptan! Kaptan!_ ", ignoring the soldiers warnings of imminent death on the spot if I decided to attempt an escape.

I simply turned on my heels. And ran.

::

"Thank the gods you made it here alive! " Aggi grumbled, lumbering towards me as I entered his small wooden cottage, a heavy hand patting me on the back, "I've been informed that your ship was taken from you...it's not surprising." I placed my things on the ground, leaning my bow and quiver against a wall and slumped into the closest chair, bringing one hand to my forehead as I caught my breath. It had been quite simple to outrun the troops; my armour and weapons were light and airy, created especially for quick-combat and they had been clamouring after me in their clunky, heavy iron armour only to lose me in the streets after I had slipped through an alleyway, taking a wrong turning as I tried to recall Aggi's directions. "They have taken everything from me, the bastards." I said breathlessly, exhaling sharply through my nose, "I won't be getting her back anytime soon..." My heart sank at the thought of losing the ship and I stared at the table, biting into my bottom lip. I had called her "Hiba", after my mother as wherever we had travelled, as long as I was by her side, I was home. Now I didn't have a place to belong.

"They'll burn her." I whispered, not taking my eyes from the table, suddenly intrigued by the pattern of the wood's grain and the layers of scratches that had built up over the years. Asmaya stood up straight, moving away from the wall she had been leaning on and placed a hand on my shoulder, "But we shall be rich..." she exclaimed fervently, "And we shall purchase a bigger, better ship and return to Zerrikania as queens...think of only that, _sadikati,_ " she put a hand to my cheek, her palm soft and warm against the coolness of my skin and smiled gently as her eyes searched my face, "We cannot change what was meant to be. This was a sign that better things are to come...and we no longer have to think about that crew of animals." She planted a kiss on my forehead, her lips squashing against my skin and smiled reassuringly as I sighed.

::

The night came quickly, Ezana keeping a constant look out for any soldiers who may have been searching for our whereabouts as we prepared for the journey. The dwarf's house was on the outskirts of the non-human enclave, small but well kept, bunches of garlic, herbs and drying pheasant meat hanging from the dusty rafters and old copper pots stacked neatly by the blackened fireplace. "We'll be travelling to Vizima. Camping along the way and stopping at cities and towns where we can for produce and the like." Aggi handed everyone a waxed cotton bed roll, each quilted with duck feathers, the inside lined with rabbit fur. "Travelling light is necessary as we'll be on foot...I managed to arrange a cart to take us as far as Gors Velen, but from there onwards, we're on our own until we reach Vizima. Horses are too expensive." He lifted his brown travelling sack onto his back, securing the straps around his waist, "I suppose I don't need to tell you that we'll be making a lot of new 'friends' on the way." I curiously looked up from tightening my boots, unsure of what he meant. He scratched at a scab on his neck, "The lands are full of monsters. I don't know what you might come across in your lands...but here..." he patted the scabbard at his side and nodded, "I had a companion dragged off into the night by a horde of Nekkers one night when we were walking through a forest clearing on our way to Nastrog. The sounds he made as they ripped him to pieces..." the dwarf shuddered, tightening his belt, "Only then, I found out months later that he was fucking my partner at the time, so perhaps the bastard deserved it!" he chuckled to himself darkly as he grabbed the large shillelagh from beside the front door.

I strapped my quiver to my back with a thick leather belt fastened around my waist, tightening it at my right hip, my sabre and _janbiya_ on my left. Carefully I inspected the bow once more, running my fingers across the carved design and over the smoother lacquered wood. It was a beautiful creation. Small, light and nimble, hand-crafted with the upmost care. I raised my eyes to notice that Asmaya was staring at me, slowly sharpening her sabre, the long feathered earring that hung from her right ear moving to and fro as she ran the blade across a small whetstone. When I had first arrived on Abd Al-Basir's ship as a seventeen year old girl, I had envied her in many ways. She was tall and elegant, with the air and grace of a swan; quick-witted and smart, and could take down three trained men on her own. Her hair was dark; thick, short and unruly against olive skin, a spattering of freckles across her nose cut through by an old, short scar running from the corner of her eye. Her eyes were large and dark, a deep brown; captivating yet always contorted into some kind of glare, frown or angered expression. I had seen her smile...we had become like sisters over the years; crying, laughing, dancing and giggling with one another, yet her smile had always seemed to hide something that I didn't quite understand.

She grinned at me from across the room and I echoed her expression, "Let's make a move," Ezana and Aggi nodded in response and we followed the dwarf out into the dark night, quietly meeting the cart driver towards the edge of the city where the land blended with the countryside and farmland. Owls sang into the sky as they flew between the trees, crickets chirping in the tall grasses by the side of the dirt road as a cool, evening breeze brushed it's fingers across the tops of our heads. Our cart was full of sacks of grain, ready to be transported to and sold at the markets of Gors Velen. The wagon was pulled by two stocky oxen with rings through their nostrils, their breath visible on the cold night air, stamping their hooves and breathing loudly as they waited for their master's command. The farmer didn't say a word to us and simply nodded towards the cart whilst taking his coin from Aggi, shoving it deep into the pocket of his musty breeches.

As the cart bumped along the uneven roads, I looked up at the dark, black blue sky, squinting at the bright half-moon. The sky was so clear that I could see all of the stars I used to navigate when at sea, each radiant ball of ethereal light winking and twinkling as we travelled silently eastwards.

::

Despite taking a week, the journey to Gors Velen had been surprisingly simple, our only difficulty being an encounter with five bandits who had assumed that the cart was full of valuables. Within two minutes, Asmaya had taken out three of them and I had cut down the last two, neither of us breaking a sweat. From Gors Velen we had walked by foot to Vizima, stopping only to camp beneath the shade of willow trees or hunt small game to be slowly roasted over an open fire, sipping regularly on oily, warm liquid from our waterskins. We did not light any fires at night. Aggi had forbidden any light at all after the sun had set, as attracting Nekkers would have most likely abruptly ended our journey. From Vizima, we sailed down the Pontar river, heading towards Hagge and past the magnificent Mahakam Mountain range, their grand bases just visible in the distance as we sailed slowly and gently with the flow of the river.

The long journey had already begun to cause a rise of impatience within Asmaya, her mannerisms growing ever more flustered the further we travelled. All she began to talk about was the treasure, the riches and gold that she hoped to find deep in the Elven caverns of the Blue Mountains. It was beginning to sicken me.

"We ought to have taken this shitty little fishing boat for ourselves, what kind of a _kaptan_ is this man? " Asmaya growled, cracking her knuckles as she started pacing up and down the deck, spitting over the side. "This little shit, taking his time as if-" Aggi nudged me in the ribs, jerking his head towards Asmaya, "Is she always so full of fire?" I laughed, nodding as we followed her with our eyes from where we were sat, giggling like school children as Asmaya roared at a young fisherman who had pushed his wheelbarrow a little too close to her for her liking. "She was the one who taught me to control my temper, but I don't think that she has ever taken her own advice," I stated, smiling slightly as I basked in old memories. Whilst we had been a part of Abd Al-Basir's crew, Asmaya had proclaimed that she was to consider me as her little sister. After working on deck, our evenings were spent in each other's bunks, sharing secrets and life lessons, talking for hours until just before the first light of dawn broke through the clouds. At every port I would convince her to come into the cities with me, exploring every avenue and tasting every new fruit or pastry we came across. Then in the evenings, we would stay out until the early hours of the morning drinking spiced, fruit wine and dancing to the locals playing their instruments as every man was transfixed; watching our hips swish and sway to the beat of the _darbuka_ drum, bells on our ankles and smiles on our lips.

She slumped beside me, leaning against the side of the fisherman's sailboat as she span her knife on it's point. "I swear to the gods I will kill you with my bare hands if you are lying, dwarf." Asmaya said, glaring at Aggi who simply sat in silence, reading a small book. "Patience." He said quietly, licking a finger as to turn the page of his book without looking up. I turned to face her and frowned, "Don't speak to him like that, he is our guide - we will not get there without him." The woman fell silent, sheathing her blade and standing up to face me, "I am not your slave to command, little girl," she hissed, arms folding slowly. "It seems that you have forgotten that is was _I_ who allowed you to become who you are." She pointed at me with a stiff finger, eyes ablaze with ever-increasing vexation, "If it were not for me, you would still be an underfed, scrawny little elfling crawling around in the dirt for scraps of food. Who do you think it was who pointed you out to Abd Al-Basir? It was me." She took a step closer, staring fiercely, her finger prodding me in the chest, "Here you are, continuously ordering me around as if you know what you are doing, yet you are only a _kaptan_ because you managed to _fuck_ your way to the top. I am simply biding my time." I stood in order to level myself with her, our faces almost touching, jaws twitching and nostrils flaring, "Don't you dare speak to me like that ever again. You forget your place." I side-stepped and began to walk towards the forecastle deck at the front of the ship only to hear her call out to me.

"It would seem it is _you_ who is forgetting your place, _elf_ ," she spat.

The force with which the back of my hand came into contact with Asmaya's cheek caused a magnificent _crack_ to be heard above almost every other sound on board. The fishermen fell silent, tentatively observing the situation in hopes that a fight was not about to ensue. Asmaya's eyes twitched as she pondering on whether to retaliate, yet she did not.

"You will regret that," she stated, then sauntered towards the cabins, slamming the wooden doors behind her as everyone looked on. This had not been the first time we had argued like this, but we had never hit one another. The disputes had been slowly building up over time...a wedge between us fed by Asmaya's increasing resentment for me and perhaps fuelled by my ever growing self-confidence. We had once been as close as sisters and at times it still felt as if we were. But as the years progressed, she had begun to feel that I had stolen everything from her.

::

"I have something I wish to tell you," I spoke only to Aggi, Asmaya playing cards with Ezana on the opposite side of the small boat; neither of us were uttering another word to one another since our quarrel. Aggi slowly closed his book and placed it upon the barrel he had been resting his feet on. "It's not only the riches in the legend of Waldzist I want to find, I wish to find my father." The dwarf nodded slowly, chuckling, "I feel honoured that you trust me enough to tell me such personal things."

"I only thought you might be able to help...as you're non-human, like me. You have friends within the elven community here." I searched the dwarfs face as he pondered for a few seconds, "There are many elves, what you are asking is virtually impossible, unless-"

"Land ho!"

I jumped to my feet as the fishermen began to prepare to dock at the small fishing village. The village was named Aspataria, home to a minute population close-by to the thick forests and woodland on the border of Aeidrn. Despite the fishermen's initial reluctance, Aggi had managed to persuade the small crew to stow us on board for a sum which most likely topped whatever they usually earned from their produce. As soon as we had stepped off of the boat, I understood why the sailors had been reluctant to aide us in our journey – there was not a signal non-human in sight. Perhaps there were elf-women and young men hidden in the brothels above some of the taverns, but I could not see a single pointed ear nor heavily bearded chin. The captain of the fishing boat approached me slowly, putting a hand on my arm to grasp my attention, "You would be wise to leave Aspataria soon...the councilmen here don't think much of your kind...if they know you're here, they may harm you." He leaned closer, black and grey peppered stubble across his chin and dark brown eyes beneath bushy eyebrows then lowered his voice, "If you must stay, my wife will take you in for just a night at no cost. But just one night and no more. Look for the house on the corner by the tavern called 'The White Whale'...there are violets growing in our windows. Make sure you are not seen."

That night we stayed at the fisherman's house, sneaking our way through the city in order to remain unnoticed; me covering my ears with a borrowed hooded cloak and Aggi unable to do much about his blatant appearance. The fisherman and his wife were childless and not used to visitors; they welcomed us into their home with open arms, preparing a magnificent feast of roasted fish seasoned with salt and herbs from their garden. Freshly baked bread sat in the middle of the round wooden table next to a pot of steaming beef stew filled with thick-cut onions, carrots and potatoes. We were all over-fed and drowsy by the time dessert came; but none of us could turn down the apple tart; coated with sugar and warm from the oven. It was hard to continue being angry with one another as the merriment of the night spun onwards, and so, Asmaya had taken me to one side and apologised profusely for her words on the boat, pulling me into a long hug when I accepted her apology. As we all sat by the fire, chatting and exchanging tales, the fisherman's wife quietly strummed her lute, humming as her husband smoked from his pipe and told us of his travels as the evening became nighttime, the couple leaving us to sleep on the floor in their living area downstairs.

It was to be a peaceful evening, silence engulfing the village except for the odd clattering of hooves against the dirt or yells from a group of drunk men staggering home to their wives. Our expedition was already proving to be much more straight-forward than any of us could have imagined, not a single aspect of the journey falling apart despite the loss and chaos at our arrival in Bremervoord a few weeks ago. That was, until midnight.

::

A single arrow shattered the glass of the window to the left of my face, the head grazing the surface of my skin deeply enough to draw blood as it flew past and embedded itself into one of the rafters. Just beneath it's head sat a resin soaked tow enveloped in flames. The arrow instantly caused the dry wood and thatching of the roof to spark and set alight, smoke curling from the ever-increasing golden red flames as they hungrily licked at the oak posts of the living area where we lay. I jumped to my feet immediately only to crouch low to the ground as more arrows entered the room, flames quickly engulfing the roof and blocking my route to the stairs, the smoke choking me as the oxygen was sucked from the air.

" _Kaptan_ , we must evacuate at once!" Ezana yelled from the other side of the room, reaching for his belongings as the house became overwhelmed with smoke and fire, his tunic pulled upwards to cover his nose and mouth. I was adamant that I must save the fisherman and his wife. They had begun to shriek and bellow for help from their bedroom window, banging on the walls in an attempt to rouse their neighbours or passers-by, but failing to make much noise as their strength began to seep away. To leave them to die would be dishonourable and shameful after the danger they had put themselves into through taking us in. I would never be able to forgive myself. Yet I could find no way to access them; the wood too hot to hold onto and the air becoming thick with heavy, black smoke, forcing me to cough and splutter, my eyes stinging and burning as water ran down my cheeks .

I shoved the dining table to the side, squinting as I made my way towards the bottom of the stairs and pulling my tunic over my nose and mouth to perhaps reduce the amount of smoke I was breathing in. The stairway was already blocked; broken timber crashing onto the stairs as the roof began to collapse and crumble, devoured by the growing blaze. " _Kaptan!?_ " I screeched, retching as I inhaled a fresh mouthful of suffocating smoke and stumbling as I tried to climb over the debris before me. I was greeted by only silence yet continued to desperately search for a way through only to feel Ezana's strong, thick arm wrap around my waist in order to pull me through the smoke and outside of the house, Asmaya quickly following with our belongings in tow.

The village was burning.

Within the house all my ears could pick up was the roaring of the fire, the coughing of my companions and terrified screams of the fisherman and his wife. It was only once I had stepped out into the open that I could see the extent of the chaos; a young boy with soot smeared across his cheeks waddled past in his undershirt, arms outstretched as he wailed for his mother who was no where to be seen; hordes of villagers screams haunted the stifling hot air as the flames stretched and reached out from the roofs of every building high into the night sky, the sound a deep rumbling and crackling and the smell of roasting flesh and charcoaled timber. Another cloud of flaming arrows shot across the black sky like comets, landing on boats and houses, striking villagers down as they ran with spine-chilling howls and shrieks from the destruction. I turned frantically to see what the crowds were running from to see men and women clad in green and thick leather armour, each with a large bow and quiver, quickly and effortlessly shooting into the midst of the villagers, their arrows never missing a mark. Through the smoke, I could just make out that the tips of their ears were pointed. Every pair of ears was pointed.

"Scoia'tael!" Aggi grimaced, squatting to catch his breath beneath the smoke. "We must get out of here, they will kill everyone!" Another burst of arrows swept past where we stood, many thudding into the backs of those fleeing the village. We began to jog towards the outskirts, avoiding the groups of elves as they swiftly charged through the streets, cutting down anyone in their way and destroying all buildings in their sights, "There is a barn to the east of the village, let's move quickly and-"

"Where do you think you're going!?" we turned and came face to face with five drawn bows, the strings pulled taught and the arrows aimed towards our heads and raised our slowly hands in surrender, uttering no words as we scrutinised the attackers. Asmaya began to slowly reach for her sabre, fearsome eyes locked onto the elf closest to her. I gently placed my fingers over her hand, "Do not attack these men." I commanded. Ezana's posture relaxed and my companions removed their hands from their sheathes. I knew of the Scoia'tael; my mother had spoken of them when she recited tales of her adventures with my father. She had labelled them simply as "freedom fighters." Elves, dwarves and halflings fighting for the right to live in peace as part of the Northern Realms, fighting for equality and to restore their cultures to their former glories without the interference of Man. My father had wanted to create a world where all non-humans did not have to live in fear of being persecuted, raped, shamed or killed simply because of the shape of their ears, their features or their stature. Yet here the Scoia'tael were; persecuting, raping, shaming and killing for the same reasons why they themselves were shunned by men. Perhaps my father had not been the man he had claimed to be; righteous and honourable...but this was a chance to find out.

"One of them is a traitorous dh'oine whore! Aen an'givare dh'oine!" exclaimed the tallest elf. He bared his teeth at me and sneered, a deep crease forming at centre his forehead as he swept behind me, kicking the back of my calf in order to send me painfully sprawling to the ground. This could not be happening; the kin who I had sought to find after travelling across the sea were to attempt to end my life. I glowered up at the elf-man who had pushed me to the ground and slowly stood to my feet only to be immediately kicked back down, "Take her weapons and bind her hands, yes, the dwarf too – dh'oine slaeth thene."

 _Dh'oine._ I did not know this word...I did not even recognise the fluid, musical language that he had spoken or that the elves continued to converse in. Yet it was obvious that he had instructed his comrades to slaughter Asmaya and Ezana; just as they had done to the fisherman and his wife. "No, stop." The words barely escaped my mouth, my lips dry and chapped, the fire having caused my skin to sweat and the smoke sucking all moisture from me. The elf held his hand up and his subordinates lowered their weapons, one of them tightening the leather bindings around Asmaya's wrists as she struggled and yelled, his foot on the small of her back to balance himself as he pulled her arms further behind her back. As she began to yell more, he tied a rag around her mouth, silencing her as she grew further impatient and frustrated at her capture. I breathed deeply, keeping still and refusing to wince as the man tightened my own bindings, "My father was one of you." I said desperately, my eyes darting from the leader of the group to the others who remained expressionless and still, their bows steadily trained on our heads. Aggi shook his head, "As if that matters to them now, you're half human, you-"

"Tawel'wch, dwarf," the elf snapped and glared at me with large green-blue eyes, "You are worse than dh'oine, scum. To live amongst them when you are Aen Seidhe. Half human or not, your ears are pointed and your culture..." he lowered his bow and paused, peering at me thoughtfully, "Although you _are_ an interesting specimen...a brown, half-breed elf. Your skin is a deep bronze, your hair unlike anything I have seen and the way you speak is strange. You are not from these lands, inh'eid."

I nodded frantically, perhaps keeping the leader in conversation would prevent the immediate deaths of Ezana and Asmaya. "I have only heard stories of the dark-skinned people of Zerrikania...perhaps your mother was an elven whore from the Northern Realms and your father a merchant. Just like any other lascivious dh'oine, he couldn't keep his hands off one of _our_ women."

Through gritted teeth, I steadied my temper and breathed deeply once again to keep myself centered, "Elves are not second-class citizens in Zerrikania. The ways of your lands are backward to me." The elf raised his eyebrows and allowed me to continue, "My father was of the Scoia'tael. Where is your commander? Before you decide mine and my companions fate, I would be grateful for the opportunity to confirm the identity of my father."

The elf slipped his bow into the sheath fastened to his back and placed his hands upon his hips, thinking as his regiment held their positions. "Our commander will most likely have you all killed. But for my amusement, and for his, as the idea of a brown elf from across the sea is somewhat entertaining..." he signalled for the four remaining elves to lift us to our feet and lead us to where their commander was situated.

::

"Here." We were roughly thrown to the floor, the soot covered ground blackening the goatskin of my boots and smudged across my face from where I had been man-handled and passed from elf to elf like a sack of coal. The fires were still roaring as we had been dragged and guided towards the whereabouts of the elf's commander on the other side of the village, close-by to the dock we had arrived at. I looked over my shoulder to glower at the elf only to see him slightly nod his head and take a step back, "Commander," he said quietly, eyes fixed ahead of me towards where the softly gushing river lay, black under the darkness of the sky. Asmaya had fallen silent, her eyes too fixed ahead and I turned slowly.

It had been a long time since I had felt my heart stop and flutter with anticipation. Yet, as I laid my eyes upon the elf stood before me, it suddenly danced and quivered erratically. I could not tell whether the feeling was simply from fear or not. He was tall for one of his kind; broad shouldered, standing with legs apart and arms folded. Like the others, he was clad from head to toe in dark green, the bottom of the padded kilt beneath his hardened leather armour and chainmail reaching just below his knees. Upon his wrists were studded, leather gauntlets; worn from constant and consistent use and reaching just before his elbows. I let my gaze travel further, eyeing the four battered sigils pinned to his chest. Whether these represented his regiment, I did not know, but in my mind it made much more sense for them to be trophies collected from the dead... The elf took a step closer without so much as glancing at me and addressed his unit in their language, questions being asked and explanations made. I swallowed and turned to look at Asmaya, Ezana and Aggi who sat in controlled silence, waiting for their fate to be decided. I knew that they would not let themselves be killed so easily. If the Scoia'tael decided to kill us all, there is no way I would let myself die without fighting until the very end.

The elf turned sharply to look at me. Upon his head was a red bandana strapped to his skull with leather bindings, a long, magnificent striped pheasant feather tucked behind his right ear. The bandana was pulled over his right eye, a deep, crimson scar running from beneath the material to the top of his lip, the skin red and mottled. His one eye caught my own, staring as he once again folded his arms, no expression upon his face. It had been a long time since I had met someone whose mere presence overwhelmed me. The elf was captivating. But I still could not recognise the feelings...a deep stirring that could either be described as anxiety or something perhaps deeper. He was frightening yet bewitching in appearance, an elf who had commanded an entire village, men, women and children, to be slaughtered and burnt alive, but seemed so...disconsolate rather than psychopathic. The elf was a commander, yet he was lost. Just one look at his one visible hazel-green eye and I could sense that something was hidden beneath this facade of grandeur and dominance.

I felt my heart flitter once again and kept my eyes fixed onto the elf as he took another step forward, "I don't know why my lieutenant decided to allow you to live, inh'eid." His voice was calm, yet steeped with authority and certainty as his eyes darted between me and Asmaya. He paused and lifted a hand, face curling into a snarl, "Dh'oine lladd thene," he stated. At that moment an elf strode forward and grabbed Asmaya by her hair and jerked her to her feet, another simply drawing his short sword quickly across Ezana's throat and kicking him into the dirt, letting him bleed out like a pig. I twitched and struggled to my feet, "What are you doing!?" I screeched, running towards Asmaya with wide eyes. The elf ripped the cloth from her mouth and she uttered an ear-piercing scream, kicking at the elf-man's arms and hands, bucking like an estranged, trapped beast. As I came closer she spat in my face. A large glob of saliva landed on the centre on my cheek and slowly ran towards my chin. I stopped running. " _This_ is my fate?" she shrieked, the veins in her neck popping as her face grew red, eyes bulging as she tried to kick at me, "I die a shameful death because you did not listen to me, I _knew_ that this path would lead to death," tears streamed down her face as her energy began to seep away, her bucking growing less erratic as she began to give up. Her captor kept his eyes fixed on the commander, waiting for his signal, but he watched on.

"Please..." I knew that begging him would not move him. He was empty. Cold. His face still expressionless as Asmaya and I shared our last conversation.

"Asmaya, please-"

" _Curse you!_ " she hissed, aiming another kick at my stomach, "By the power of Zerrikanterment, I _curse_ you and your unborn children, I hope you die screaming, you stupid, little bitch. Once, I loved you as a sister and a friend, but for the past five years, you have-"

The elf slit her throat.

I sank to the ground as Asmaya's body hit the dirt with a dull _thud_ , her head lolling to the side with brown eyes wide open as she choked and coughed, her life force leaking to blend with the soot and ash. I brought my face to hers, her cheeks still warm, sticky with blood and sweat. I did not want to look weak in front of this commander, but despite her last furious words, and despite her curses - nothing I did could stop the tears from flowing. His voice came like a dart; cutting and sharp.

"Why do you weep, inh'eid?"

I whipped around to face the commander, wishing that my hands were unbound so that I could pounce upon the murderer and rip his throat out with my teeth. I rose to my feet and staggered towards him, noticing the other elves tense up as I approached their leader. He stood defiantly and locked his one eye onto mine once again, "It is clear that your subordinate didn't hold you in high regards – I would not trust her. Why do you weep? I have saved your life." I aimed a headbutt to the centre of his forehead only for him to dodge to the side and watch me fall to the ground once again, "Who are you?" I spat, glaring up at him through blurred eyes as tears filled and overflowed onto my cheeks. I lowered my head in defeat and the elf crouched beside me, his face close to mine, close enough to feel his hot breath upon my cheek as he unsheathed his sword and began cutting through my leather bindings, "My name..." he said, "Is Iorveth."

 _ **Tawel'wch** \- Silence_

 _ **Dh'oine slaeth thene** – Slay the humans_

 _ **Dh'oine lladd thene** \- Kill the humans_

 _ **Aen an'givare dh'oine** – A spy for the humans_

 _ **Inh'eid** \- Half-elf_

 _ **Dh'oine** \- Human/s_

 _ **Asmaya** \- AS-MY-A_

 _ **Leya** \- LAY-A_

 _ **Sadikati** \- my friend_


	3. Chapter III: Birds of a Feather

**Chapter III**

 **Birds of a Feather**

The night air was stale with smoke, ash falling delicately from the skies like snow, landing in our hair and covering the ground in a thick layer of grey, chalky matter. The smell was abominable; charred flesh, burning hair and blackened timber. I could barely see anything, eyes stinging and nose burning from the harshness of the fumes, and a chesty cough that brought up foul tasting phlegm. I spat.

Everyone in the village was dead. Including Asmaya.

Under the scrutinising eye of the elf who had brought us to his commander, we had burned her body beside the river. Ezana's too. Silently and solemnly we had carried their limp bodies to the riverside, me forgetting my pride and letting the tears run tracks through the black soot on my cheeks, a dull, heavy throb in my heart as we laid her to rest. She looked so peaceful in death. Her face void of the semi-permanent scowl that she had always worn; relaxed and almost angelic.

If the circumstances had been normal, we would have given her a traditional burial at sea. Words would be said, prayers muttered and we'd have set her body in a rowing boat full of sweet scented perfumes, flowers and herbs, then cast her out to sea, setting the boat alight with arrows once it had drifted a short distance away. Aggi had suggested that we throw Asmaya into the river, but we had nothing to weigh her down with, meaning that the animals would have gotten at her. I shuddered at the thought.

The commander of the troop, or _Iorveth_ as he had introduced himself, was watching me with his one hazel-green eye. Arms folded tightly across his chest and legs set apart in a powerful stance. There were too many of them to even think about running away or fighting for an escape route. That was the only reason why Iorveth had decided to cut our bindings...he knew that we would not run and it was obvious that he would not hesitate to cut us down if we even made the slightest sudden movement. I narrowed my eyes disdainfully. Already I despised the elf.

For the past few hours, Aggi and I had been sat beneath a tree, backs against the hard, flaking bark of it's trunk, legs crossed. Aggi sat with his head drooped, hands clasped almost as if in prayer and eyes shut tightly. I tilted my head back and rested it against the tree, gently closing my eyes, "We need to lose these elves somehow..." I felt Aggi stir beside me and opened one eye to see him eyeing me in disbelief, " "We're in deep shit, Leya." he said in hushed tones, eyes fixed on Iorveth who was now tending to his troops. "This isn't just any ploughin' Socia'tael unit. This is _Iorveth_ we're talking about...maybe _you've_ never heard of him , but the stories I've heard chill me to the bone." He pulled a face, "The things I've heard...you might as well say he eats babies." I sniffed contemptuously, sizing up Iorveth as he continued to bark orders.

"I detest the elf. I don't care who he is." Aggi shrugged, "Your detest of him means nothing," the dwarf grumbled, "We need to negotiate, it's a wonder we're still alive. I don't know what's taking them so-" Aggi fell silent, clasping his hands together again as Iorveth approached us slowly, stopping a foot away from where I was sat. I didn't look up. "I want to speak with you, inh'eid," came his voice. I refused to raise my head, instead tracing circles in the dirt with one finger and snorting, "It's a shame that you didn't offer the same opportunity to my two companions." I glared up into his expressionless face, eyes ablaze with fury as I felt my stomach twist and lurch in anger and drew my knees up towards my chest, "What could you _possibly_ wish to talk to me about? Unless it is a discussion regarding our release or death, I see no reason for us to converse." Iorveth slightly narrowed his eye, as if surprised at my audacity to answer him back. He paused, eyes fixed on my face and his lip curled, "I have no time for your games, woman. Caémm. Now." He fiercely grabbed at me, fingers wrapping around my upper arm and dragged me to my feet, pulling me towards him. I stumbled, quickly regaining my balance as I stood and yanked my arm away, "Do not touch me," I spat, backing away from him and he frowned menacingly, "The only reason you still live is because I am allowing you to. Don't push me." Iorveth folded his arms once again and jerked his head in a motion I could only assume meant "follow."

I reluctantly did so, keeping my pace slow and distancing myself, eyes boring into his back as he led me towards an area void of his troops, then turned to face me, "Why are you here, inh'eid?" I scowled and mimicked his stance; legs apart and arms folded, "Before you interrupted with your unnecessary slaying of innocents, we were on a historical expedition. And a quest to find my elven father." He made a face, "You're not from these lands, you most likely don't understand what we fight for or what we elves have had to endure-"

"I know that slaughtering an entire village is no way to achieve freedom. "

He glowered at me, eyes glinting in the shadowy half-light, "Our plight is an honourable one. You cannot comprehend. An outsider like you." I looked at him sternly, "Do not patronise me, it is but a thin thread of self-control that is preventing me from ripping out your throat with my bare hands for what you've done to my friends!" The words came as a harsh snarl, and I took a step towards him, but Iorveth did not flinch.

"Who is your father?" he said simply, his gaze never leaving my face. "I am intrigued to know which member of the Scoia'tael happened to somehow succumb to the temptations of a filthy dh'oine and create...you."

Disregarding his attempt at insulting me, my heart pumped a little faster at the anticipation of perhaps discovering my father. It was infuriating that it had turned out to be so, but perhaps Iorveth would be the final piece in the puzzle of my heritage, and lead me to meet the man whom I had never met, yet had come to influence my life in a great many ways.

For many years I had dreamt of what he looked like. Round, green eyes like opals, thick hair, fine and dark with skin as white as milk...much like the elf that stood before me. Despite Zerrikanians holding no contempt towards those of elven heritage, it was always made clear to me by others that my pointed ears and features meant that I was not human. My mother had often lovingly stroked my cheek, gazing fondly as she re-called her memories of my father. She had never once failed to remind me of how much I looked like him, how much my smile brought back recollections of a time long passed. "My father's name is Cairbre aep Diared. I've never known him." I said, the words tumbling from my mouth almost too quickly. Iorveth's mask-like expression fell for a split-second and he scrutinised me closely,"You're sure that-"

"I have been waiting for years to find him, if you know of his whereabouts..." at the look on the elf's face, I knew instantly that he had known my father. Yet the emotion etched onto his porcelain-like, delicate features translated as grief rather than shock. His arms fell to his sides and he stared at me. Staring deeply as if in a trance before blinking slowly, "Yes, you look like he did." _Did._ It didn't take me long to register what was to come next and my heart began to sink. Iorveth slowly sat on an overturned barrel, furrowing his brow as he brought a single gloved hand to his chin. He stayed silent.

"Iorveth...?"

The elf looked up upon hearing me utter his name and nodded slowly, "Forgive me for not asking your name..." his manner had changed. _Forgive me_. I stayed standing, watching as he sat in thought for a moment. He breathed deeply, the look in his visible eye a mixture of emotions; fascination, sorrow, anger. "My name is Aleyanerie Nazeer." He repeated the name as if to familiarise himself with it, rolling the vowels around his mouth, a name new and foreign to him.

"Perhaps your mother told you of the way things are over here...though it seems that being treated with disdain because of your race is new to you. But we have fought countless wars over such things as trivial as the shape of our ears. By some we are labelled as brutal terrorists; killing and slaughtering for a hopeless cause. And by others; freedom fighters. Regardless of what we are, countless brave souls have given their lives for the Scoia'tael in hope to create peace and equality. Your father was one of those people." His face was solemn, his voice soft with an unnatural calmness for someone who seemed to find murder such a casual affair. My eyes connected with his and our gaze held, perhaps for a little too long, before I looked away quickly and attempted to understand the wave of emotion that had flooded my mind and body, disrupting my train of thought.

I had expected the news to be as such. Yet I had not known that I would feel such sadness at the loss of a man who I did not know. My heart crumpled with disappointment at meeting a dead end and I clenched my fists tightly. I had come too late. All those years of dreaming about travelling across the seas to meet the man who had once been the centre of my mother's happiness and given her wondrous tales of excitement and adventure to whisper to me as I fell asleep; and he had passed into the next life. And so now...I had no-one.

"Filwyr!" came a loud cry from a group of Scoia'tael a little way away from us. Iorveth and I turned towards the yelling to see the tall elf from earlier rushing towards him, he spoke in frantic Elder Speech, pointing with one hand towards the river before sprinting back to gather the rest of the troops. The commander turned to me, " _Filwyr_...or knights, approach," he stated, adjusting the huge bow upon his back, "We are to move on."

"Can't we-"

But Iorveth had already begun to stride away. He stopped suddenly, then turned to look at me,"As the child of an elf who served in one of the most respected units in the Scoia'tael, I owe you an explanation. You may travel with me until we reach the forests outside of Dyfne. But then no further," he hurried away, the many arrows in his quiver clattering and swaying with each heavy footfall. I watched him as he went, squinting as I lost myself in my thoughts. I didn't know what to make of Iorveth. He confused me. One part of me hated myself for even acknowledging my instant physical attraction to him. He was a murderer. Yet his unfathomable jumble of calmness and fiery passion for his cause drew me to him.

The idea of someone who had people and beliefs so precious to them that they would give their life to preserve them was in some way admirable. Something about Iorveth had captured my attention and given rise to an almost primal magnetism that caused my ability to think straight dissipate. I frowned deeply, shaking the thoughts away and mentally scolding myself for being so weak. Never in my life had I succumbed so easily to my most basic wants or needs and thrown my values out of the window for anyone. This elf was nothing but a murderer. He was deluded. So caught up in his arrogant belief that his way for achieving freedom was the only way, that it didn't matter who got in the way. It pained me to think that my own father may have been the same.

::

We travelled slowly and in silence, many members throwing distrusting glances my way, bows in hand or fingering the hilts of the swords at their waists. Every house that we trudged past was falling to pieces; pitch black and crumbling as the slowly dying fires feasted on any remaining material, timber frames crashing to the ground as they weakened and ashes floating on the gentle, warm breeze. Lifeless bodies littered the dirt roads, deep crimson blood staining the dry, caked mud; a reminder of the chaos that had just passed and a stark contrast to the serene stillness of the summer night and star-filled blue-black skies. The scene was horrific.

I had seen my share of bloodshed throughout my life; I was often involved in the removal of gang lords or greedy tax collectors when visiting ports. During my time with Abd Al-Basir, I had seen him kill many men, women and teenagers. But never small a ship of it's riches had always meant inevitable death, whether from my own crew or the enemy and I'd assisted in the destruction and assassination of anyone Abd Al-Basir had despised or felt threatened by. To some, I may be a murderer too. But _this_ was an abomination. I kept my eyes ahead of me.

"He said that we are to travel with him to Dyfne. That he _owes_ me an explanation because of my Scoia'tael father. He said that he was important..." Aggi said nothing, trying his best to keep up with the quick pace of the unit since his shillelagh had also been confiscated. He breathed heavily, one hand reaching down to his damaged leg to rub the mottled, scarred skin and soothe it's soreness. "And what after he has explained who your father was? We'll walk free? I ploughin' think not." I remained silent, eyes fixed onto the back of Iorveth's head "No. I'll kill him." Aggi rolled his eyes, but I ignored him, "I shall avenge Asmaya."

As we reached the edge of the village, we approached a set of gallows. Four blackened, rotting bodies hung from the ropes, swinging ever so slightly in the breeze, their eyes pecked from their heads and hair matted with muck, bird faeces and blood. Iorveth held a fist in the air, signalling the troop to stop and turned, his eye searching until it landed on me. The elves parted as he walked towards me, everyone unsure of his intentions. "You said that you didn't understand why we do as we do." He gestured for me to follow and slowly began his way up the stairs of the gallows, each step creaking under his weight. The smell was unbearable; the bodies would have been here for weeks, but I didn't dare move my hand to cover my nose, " _This_ is what they do to us," he hissed.

The corpses were of different lengths, unrecognisable and falling apart. I could only assume that it had been a family of elves, the smallest barely a child. Iorveth stood beside me expectantly, "This village was home to an elf-murderer. Known for frequently harassing and torturing any non-humans he happened to come across...the inhabitants never batting an eyelid at his wrong-doings. Why do you think no non-humans live here?" This family was simply travelling to Dol Blathanna...we needed to send a message." I remained silent and stared at my feet. "Why did you wish to show me this?" My voice was barely a whisper as I contained myself, refusing to retch, lifting my eyes to look upon Iorveth's face. "I saw a dead family of humans on our way through the village...gutted like pigs by _your_ hand. The youngest was barely a teenager." I shook my head, my mouth upturned in disgust, "You are a hypocrite. This does not solve anything." I swiftly turned to leave the gallows, dazed by and sick at the image of the swinging dead elves left on display for the village to see, maggots writing in their open orifices. Iorveth did not follow. Only watched as I walked away before cutting the bodies down and instructing his unit to burn them. He signalled for us to carry on, throwing only a quick glance in my direction, once again, a mixture of emotions written upon his face...yet I recognised guilt as the most apparent.

::

For the next few hours, I said nothing. The image of the swinging bodies forever etched in my mind, ready to plague my slumber with nightmares. By the time the troops began to set up camp deep in the centre of a small woods, Aggi had given up on trying to make conversation with me. I couldn't utter a word, simply watching as the elves chatted in their language, chewing on roots and gulping from their waterskins, those who had been injured during the raid resting on their bedrolls.

That was, until Iorveth approached me once again. His stride was arrogant, a half swagger full of confidence and tinged with a sense of self-importance. It seemed to me that he relished in the stories about him; the violent and horrific stories that made him almost untouchable, much like the tales that had painted an untouchable image of myself in Zerrikania and Zangwebar. He had signalled for me to follow him once again, uttering no words and ignoring the curious glances from his subordinates as we walked together further into the woods. The tall elf, _Brenin_ as Iorveth called him, glowered at us both, his displeasure at the attention his commander was giving me and the apparent trust he had in me to not break his neck when we were alone was clearly evident. Iorveth noticed his stare from the corner of his eye and sniffed, "Gather three men and hunt for small game, Brenin. We must rest before the troops catch up, an arduous journey lies ahead of us."

The woods were quiet. The only sounds the faint twittering of birds as they rose from their nests with the sun, and the swishing of the plush leaves on the long, thick tree branches of great oaks and beeches. It was as my mother had described; eerily alluring, beautiful yet full of horrors. Whether the horrors were the dark creatures themselves or us, I could not decide. Iorveth did not utter a word, but trod softly, his footsteps almost inaudible upon the soft grasses beneath our feet. We reached a small grove and he stopped before a clutter of deep green bushes, slowly lowering himself to a crouch and sliding his bow from it's ornate sheathe. I opened my mouth in confusion, but as soon as my lips parted, he whipped around to face me, a finger drawn to his mouth in order to silence my protest. I crouched with him, unsure of whether an enemy that I could not see lay ahead or if he simply was playing games. Iorveth turned to face into the grove, delicately slipping an arrow from his quiver and placing the notch against his bowstring, drawing it back with practiced and proficient grace, his aim precise and his muscular, scarred arm never wavering from whatever it was he aimed for.

He paused.

The silence was ever-growing, leaves rustling in the soft flurries of warm air and the chirping of insects becoming noticeably sharper to my ears. I watched over his shoulder, searching for his prey, but failing to notice anything. Before I could stand in objection at his behaviour he had quickly let loose his arrow with a streamlined _whoosh,_ jumping to his feet and sprinting towards his target.

::

The deer had died instantly. The arrow had struck true and embedded itself deep into it's skull, ensuring a painless and swift death. Iorveth pulled his arrow from the beast and hauled the carcass onto his shoulders. I frowned deeply, "I expect that you didn't take me with you in an attempt to impress me with your archery and hunting prowess?" The deer's head flopped over his shoulder, glassy eyes connecting with mine before Iorveth began to walk. "This is to contribute to my troops hunt; we haven't eaten in days." He shifted the creature into a more comfortable position, "But this is also an opportunity to learn a little about your father away from my camp and the hateful glares of my unit." He fixed his one eye onto my face, "Many of my troops do not trust you. You look like an elf, but to them, you are not one of us. Caémm."

We stopped beneath a large oak, it's roots twisting and protruding from the earth, coated in a thick layer of moss. "I'm surprised that you trust an...what is it you call me... _inh'eid_ enough to come out here alone with me, elf." I stated, eyeing Iorveth as he sat cross-legged on a patch of grass after setting down his bow and quiver. As I sat opposite him, he snorted, a half-laugh, half-grimace, as he watched me get comfortable, "Likewise, _half-elf._ " A short silence passed between us and he breathed out slowly, "I owe you an explanation, as the last remaining kin of Cairbre aep Diared." My eyes narrowed slightly, skeptical of what exactly Iorveth meant, "You sound surprisingly apologetic for a monster." He stared at me, unblinking and swallowed, lowering his gaze slowly, "Think of me what you will, inh'eid," his voice became low and flat and he tilted his head back, staring into the leaves of the trees, the faint morning sun illuminating his eye and casting shadows on his skin, blending with the elaborate tattoo that spread across his neck, "If you had lived as long as I and seen what I have seen, perhaps you would have become a monster too," he looked at me and studied my expression, "It would appear that you despise me."

I scoffed, "Is it any surprise that I do?" He shook his head, "No. But when I asked you why you were weeping for that d'hoine woman, I meant it. Perhaps it will take a while longer for you to realise that her reasons for dying were beyond merely her race...your trust in her was naïve." A wave of anger swept through my body and my cheeks became hot. I clenched my fists, nails digging into the palms of my hands in order to steady my temper, "Speak only of my father, you wretched bastard. Once I have learned of him, you will die for your actions against me." A flicker of amusement crossed Iorveth's face and he held his tongue, folding his arms once again before beginning his tale.

He spoke of the Battle of Brenna. Of course, in Zerrikania we had heard news of the warring countries across the sea, but as it had provided as a means of revenue for our country, in terms of supplying alchemy-based weaponry and potions, it was never viewed as negatively as Iorveth was portraying. He had served as part of the Vrihedd, an elven division in the Nilfgaardian cavalry. My father had served under one of the most notorious and respected members of the Socia'tael, Toruviel aep Sihiel, a woman that Iorveth described as fearless and frightening. As he spoke of the atrocities that my father and he faced in battle, he avoided making eye contact with me, simply addressing the grass, or the sky or something to the side of where he sat, the emotion in his eyes reflecting the distress the horrors had caused him to feel.

"Just as many of the elven troops did, your father escaped the battlefield. But we were betrayed by the Nilgaardians, geas evellienn aen eeuwigh'eid," he spat the last part of his sentence angrily. Iorveth paused before standing to his feet and I watched as he rose, towering above me, broad-shouldered and wide-chested, "Similar to the fate of the Vrihedd, your father was hunted, captured and executed by the Redanian Secret Service at Fort Drakenborg alongside my subordinate Echel Traighlethan. I will tell you more once we have moved on again..." I got to my feet slowly, taking in the tale of the man who I had never had to chance to call "father" and pondered over details as he began to walk back to camp with his deer, adding a few more pieces to the puzzle.

"But if the entirety of the Vrihedd were executed...how did _you_ survive?"

Iorveth froze, his shoulders rising and falling as he exhaled. He slowly turned to face me, eye fixed onto my own and the visible strands of his dark hair moving in the gentle gushes of wind that slipped through the fingers of the trees.

"I do not know, Aleyanerie."

::

Upon our arrival back to camp, the constant chatter amongst the unit simmered to a low murmur as curious gazes followed our movements, Brenin staring at me in particular with distrust and a down-turned mouth. Iorveth said nothing and simply strode towards the newly built fire at the centre of the camp, setting his kill down and removing the weapons from his back. The elf promptly drew one of the knives at his waist before beginning to skin the animal, whistling to himself as he worked.

"Where did he take you? I'm hoping he didn't try anything funny..." I looked at Aggi sideways, "Funny?" He shrugged, taking a bite from the hot, roasted rabbit meat that had been handed to us wrapped in leaves. "Socia'tael take what they want and plunder just as much as the Nordling troops do..." I screwed up my face in disgust, picking at the small ration of rabbit meat in my hand and glancing at Iorveth who sat with Brenin and his other troops, slowly chewing as they conversed in their own language. "My father is dead...executed." The statement was plain, my voice flat and emotionless. Aggi paused, before placing a sturdy, greasy hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you now know more about where you come from." I shook my head and snorted, "I know nothing about where I come from," I glanced at the elves, watching as they poked fun at one another and told jokes that I couldn't understand, grinning from ear to ear and enjoying each other's company. "Iorveth told me that despite the fact that I look like an elf..." I lightly touched the tips of my ears, "They don't see me as one of them...but then humans do not see me as one of their own either. So where does that leave me?" I bit into my lip and furrowed my brow, pushing aside the insecure thoughts of not-belonging that had plagued my mind when I lived off of the streets of Zerrikania, young and alone, scavenging and stealing wherever I went, long before I had pledged my services to Abd-Al Basir and his crew.

Aggi nosily sucked the animal fat from the tips of his fingers, smacking his lips and wiping his hands on his jerkin, "I wouldn't worry too much, Leya. Perhaps it is a good thing that you don't belong to this group of brutes. The elves we want to find are in Dol Blathanna. We'll find Garth once these lot ditch us, he'll know of your father too, I'm sure." A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth at Aggi's gruff attempt at comforting me. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, throwing my uneaten rabbit meat to the ground despite the growling of my stomach. "The elf is a monster, Aggi." I stated, re-twisting the roots of two of the dreadlocks that grew from the front of my scalp, "To slaughter on such ridiculous terms is-"

"Iorveth may not yet know who you are, but I do. I would like to think that I have become your friend, Leya, which is why I hope that you can accept my honesty - you are as much of a murderer as he is...birds of a feather as the saying goes..." Aggi trailed off upon seeing the heated look on my face, my cheeks flushing angrily. "I have honour. To uphold honour is my code. I do not kill without reason, yet he and my father-"

"I don't condone the Scoia'tael, nor do I try to make out that I'm pure as a virgin. But Iorveth has most likely said the same thing to you about honour. Abd Al-Basir was a murdering, villainous pirate...I've heard of his poisonous tales. You were a part of that. From where I am sitting, we are all murderous, reprehensible people." As Aggi took a swig from our shared waterskin, I stood, unable to continue the conversation any longer, and stormed into the bush, knowing that the Scoia'tael scouts that sat hidden in the trees were watching with careful eyes as I left the area.

::

The sun was now high in the sky, illuminating the magnificence of my surroundings. Never in Zerrikania had I stepped foot into a woods like this...the ground was soft, green and grassy, an array of coloured flowers spattered across it in bunches like paint flung onto a canvas. Birds sat high in their trees, flitting to and fro whilst they sang with unique melodies to friends and family across the woods. This is the land my mother fell in love with and was forced to leave behind. I sat with my back to the camp, a little way into the woods and hopefully beyond the scope of the Scoia'tael lookouts, simply listening to the natural sounds of the wilderness and losing myself in my frantic thoughts. The events of yesterday evening and this morning were already proving too much for me, my head aching with stress and my mind full of disturbing images I could not un-see. To imagine being back at sea, listening to the sound of the waves lap at my ship's hull as I stood at it's stern, and the hums and murmurs of the crew as they sang to themselves whilst washing decks and playing cards was all I could do to calm myself. I closed my eyes.

A gloved hand wrapped itself around my neck, the other clamping over my mouth to muffle my attempts at screaming in surprise and anger. I was dragged forcefully backwards, further into the trees before my attacker lay on top of me, his full weight pinning me to the dew soaked ground. I struggled beneath him, grunting and yelling, kicking my legs. The man was a Nordling, a tall brute of a man with many scars across one side of his face, closely cropped hair and a crooked grin. He leered at me as I continued to thrash around and then pinned my arms above my head, "Surprised to find a Scoia'tael lass sitting unawares and unarmed when her camp is so close by..." he leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of uncleanliness and his body odour of sweat and unwashed body. "Get the fuck _off_ of me, you whore-son!" I tried to head-butt him, but he recoiled, laughing at my attempts to injure him.

"Got a little time before the rest of my unit arrives, elf-bitch. Enough time for a quick fuck, I can't get enough of your type," he slid his hand between my legs, groping at my crotch before reaching to loosen the cords of his breeches and release his growing erection. I let out an almighty roar, rolling around like an enraged beast in order to prevent him from having his way with me, "Hold still you knife-eared little cunt," he muttered, backhanding my left cheek with his armoured fist. I felt the skin open on my cheek and blood slowly drip from the stinging gash, "Fuck you!" came my anguished reply. There was no way I would allow this disgusting creature to lay his hands on me, to have his way with me without my consent and force me to take him. No man or woman had ever or would ever lay their hands upon me without my permission and survive the ordeal.

Just as I managed to loosen one of my hands and forcefully grab at the man's face, an arrow thudding into his back. The brute cried out in pain, falling to the side and reaching for the arrow that had struck him. I jumped up from beneath him and watched as my rescuer ran towards the man whilst drew her sword, slicing the man's head from his neck with one swift movement and kicking his body out of the way, as I stood panting and breathing heavily after the struggle. A scout stood before me, another arrow notched on her bow, she jerked her head towards the encampment, "Caémm! Tell the others that the troops have found our trail and will approach sooner than expected." I nodded at her, uttering a thanks and spitting on the man's dismembered body before pelting towards the camp, bellowing at the top of my lungs." _Filwyr!_ " I yelled, every head in the camp turning towards me as I stopped before Iorveth. Every elf stood to their feet at my cries, reaching for their weapons, yet waiting for their commander to confirm that I spoke the truth. Iorveth quickly stood to his feet, "Speak, quick, what is it?" he noted the leaking wound on my cheek.

"Nordling troops are encircling this camp, one of your scouts just helped me defeat one of their scouts." Iorveth nodded and grabbed his bow, signalling with his hands to the rest of the unit who stamped out the fire before scattering into the trees, the remaining skinned deer carcass now abandoned and wasted. He turned to leave, "If you don't wish to die, you and the dwarf must carry on through the woods. Be wary of the creatures that lurk..."

I side-stepped into his way before he could move, a look of dismay upon my face, "If you think that Aggi and I are wondering into the wilderness with nothing to defend ourselves with, think again," Iorveth turned to look at Brenin and nodded, "Give them their weapons." Brenin reluctantly retrieved our things and handed them back to Aggi and I, folding his arms tightly as he watched us strap on our equipment. Iorveth eyed my sabre and dagger and smirked, "A bit pretty aren't they?" he remarked, referring to the coloured glass embedded in my dagger's belt and the ornate ivory handle. "They serve me well, pretty as they are." I drew the dagger and pointed it at his throat, "Duel me and I will cut you." Iorveth let out a small laugh, eyeing the weapon as he cracked his knuckles, "We will see." I finished tightening the last buckle on my belt before slinging my bow across my back, "Let's go. We're coming with you." Iorveth paused, unsure what to make of me taking control of the situation, but held his tongue, making eye contact with Brenin who nodded and rushed ahead with three more elves in his wake.

We travelled swiftly, joining with the scouts who were already in combat with the peacock feather plumed enemy. Iorveth let out an almighty roar before charging into the fight with his drawn sword, fiercely cutting down the nearest soldier with one powerful strike. I stayed back, drawing my bow and nocking an arrow whilst staying close to Aggi, wary of his injured leg and near useless short sword. "Why did you come into battle, dwarf?" I stated through gritted teeth, keeping my eyes on the enemy. He grunted in reply and shrugged, "I fear Nekkers more than I fear men," I let out a little laugh before concentrating solely on the fight, letting lose an arrow and hitting a soldier square between the eyes before circling to the left and hitting another man who had almost taken out Brenin without him noticing, he swivelled around and locked eyes with me after seeing the man fall before whipping back around to deal with another. "You're a good shot, _kaptan,_ " Aggi chuckled and glanced up at me, "I better get into the midst of things for fear of being viewed a coward," he ran forward and bellowed a war-cry before hacking into the soldier closest to us.

I jogged closer to the centre of the battle and drew my sabre, whirling around to lock blades with a giant of a man clad in full steel armour, the majority his face hidden by a large barbute helmet. He lifted his huge, thick blade above his head and brought it down heavily, moving me backwards by a few inches as I parried with both hands on the hilt of my blade, heels digging into the dirt. I jumped backwards and darted behind the man, slicing quickly at his calf muscle in order to bring him down before taking a step backwards as he turned towards me. Yet he wasn't quick enough. I sliced through his other calf muscle and he fell to his knees, giving me access to landing a swift and ending blow to his body. He lay limp and I jumped backwards, turning to face another enemy. But this time, I was not quick enough.

The blow took me by surprise and sent me sprawling to the ground, the pain not yet apparent. I lay on the ground, facing upwards, my sabre dropping from my open palm. The man had sliced into my stomach, a deep enough cut to expose my flesh and cause excessive bleeding, but not deep enough to cause my insides to fall apart. I screamed as the adrenaline dissipated and my body instantly responded to the open wound on my abdomen. When I lifted my head to look at the injury, blood had slowly begun to stain my shirt and seep through the lamellar armour. I pressed my hand onto the gash in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. Any slight movement caused a fresh wave of intense pain to flood through every nerve in my body. I clenched my fists and shut my eyes tightly, taking a sharp intake of breath before trying to steady my breathing, in, out, in out. It was not long before I had passed out from the pain...

::

Upon waking, I noticed that my armour had been removed and a rough, quick attempt at bandaging the wound had been made, but the linens used were soaked black with blood and messily arranged poultice herbs. I still could not move, the pain throbbing, continuous and sometimes sharply stabbing. I had been moved to a bedroll and turned to reach for my travelling pouch that lay beside me, painfully fishing around for a small glass bottle of thick white liquid. I popped the cork and swallowed a few droplets of the milk of poppy and mandragora solution in order to ease the pain. Aggi was sat next to me and looked up at my movements, worry strewn across his face, "I thought you'd gone and got yourself killed, almost shat myself seeing your stomach ripped open like it was. I've been at here watching for the past few hours, you were slipping in and out of conciousness..." I tried to smile, but only managed a half-grimace, "Thank you, Aggi. It's a shame that you see me in such a pathetic state..." I croaked, wincing as I fidgeted on the itchy, woollen bedroll. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "You're growin' on me. I don't want to see you die just yet," he grumbled then looked up as a shadow stood over me.

Iorveth crouched by my feet, "The soldiers are dead," he looked at my stomach and furrowed his brow, "This is a shoddy job at patching you up." I tried to shrug and he stood to his feet again. "It's unusual for soldiers to find us so easily...our tracks are always well covered and my scouts never make a mistake. It's a cause for concern. We've saved a man for questioning, you might want to hear what he has said..." he strode towards a bound and bloodied solider who sat shaking by the feet of Brenin before Iorveth grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards where I lay. I slowly shifted myself onto my elbows and he threw him to the foot of the bedroll, kicking him forwards, "Tell the lady who sent you," Iorveth snarled, aiming another kicking at the man's stomach. The man was sweating, covered in his own and other people's blood, stripped of his armour. He eyed me with wide-eyes and whimpered, "Someone sent us to follow you..." I gazed at the man in confusion, glancing from Aggi's face to the man, "Who?"

The solider shifted onto his knees, eyes fixed onto the grounds, "If I tell you, will you let me go?"

"No. You will die." I spoke the truth. There was not way the Scoia'tael would let this man live.

He nodded slowly and kept his eyes on the ground, "A woman in Hagge paid us to follow and kill you before you reached Dol Blathanna. But we did not know that you were with...them..." he nodded towards Iorveth who nudged the man with the toe of his boot, "Tell her. Who. Sent. You." Iorveth snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"A woman."

I nodded, "Go on."

"She didn't tell us her name...she approached in hooded clothes...all I know is that she was not from our lands...tan and carrying some kind of curved sword at her side...we were to meet her and her subordinate at Aspatria...she promised us mountains of gold, it was hard not to believe her..."

He did not need to go on anymore. It had already sunk in who had sent these men to kill me. But I needed confirmation. I needed to know fully that the conclusion my mind had reached was true. "Was there anything else unique about this woman's appearance?" my voice was cold and empty. Heart sinking and stomach turning as the realisation came to light. She had not been lying when she said she hated me. She had not been lying. "You must remember something else, or do I have to force it from you?" The man shook his head, "No, no, please, I remember one thing only...no names, just a description of who she wanted dead...pointed ears, brown skin, green eyes, and-"

I didn't hear whatever else poured from the man's mouth. It was too clear. When she had said that I had stolen everything from her and that she was biding her time, she had meant this – that my death was the only thing that would allow her to be her own person. She had hated me deeply...perhaps for years; hateful of my relationship with Abd Al-Basir and my founded position at _kaptan_ of my own crew. Hateful that my destiny was not her destiny. Aggi shook his head and placed his hand on my shoulder once again, "I am sorry, Leya." I avoided looking at Iorveth and instead turned my face away from the soldier who knelt intently at the foot of my bedroll, "I know enough." And it was then that I had realised that Iorveth had been right from the very beginning.

" _Why do you weep, inh'eid?"_

 **Geas** **evellienn aen eeuwigh'eid** – _curse them for eternity_

 **Inh'eid** – _half-elf_

 **Caémm –** _come/go_

 **Filwyr –** _soldiers_

 **Kaptan** _– Captain_


	4. Chapter IV: Tales of Home

**I apologise for the huge delay for this chapter. Writer's block and life commitments unfortunately got in the way of writing this, but hopefully it was worth it!**

 **Chapter IV**

 **Tales of Home**

This night I couldn't sleep. The air was sticky and stiflingly hot after the quick, warm downpour that had blanketed the entire forest and I had once again dreamt of swinging, black bodies. Crickets loudly chirped and small creatures rustled nosily in the bushes close by to where we had set up camp, the thin canvases of the make-shift tents swaying and creasing gently in the occasional breeze that swept through the clearing. Aggi had set up my tent for me in hope that it would provide a little privacy as I lay on my bedroll, unable to move, unable to stand or properly sit up due to the wound that stretched across my stomach like a wide, gaping red mouth. I changed my bandages as often as possible; cleaning the wound with alcohol salvaged by Brenin from the raid on Aspartia, chewing on bitter tasting roots and herbs that the unit's herbalist had been instructed to provide me and applying the poultice paste to the hastily sewn-up, damaged flesh before carefully binding it with strips of linen.

It had been a few sleeps since I had learned of Asmaya's betrayal and her apparent deep hatred for me. I clenched my fists tightly into balls at the thought. The revelation had almost hurt more than my injury, yet it was anger that had consumed and clouded my mind when I had initially learnt the truth rather than despair. Anger at my stupidity for not noticing her ever-growing hatred for me and anger for having trusted and loved her so blindly. She had been like a sister to me, but I had no place in my heart for traitors.

Perhaps she had always hated me. A few months after sailing alongside Abd Al-Basir, he had taken me as his lover. Our relationship had been honest and open...we both had taken other lovers at various points too; men and women from the various ports we had dropped anchor at, meaningless in the grand scheme of things and never affecting our love for and loyalty to one another; strong and unwavering. But he never touched Asmaya. And never showed any desire to do so. It should have been obvious to me that she had deep, unmoving feelings for our _kaptan_ , yet she constantly reassured me that my relationship with him meant nothing to her and didn't affect our friendship. I had foolishly believed her. Yet perhaps my naivety, love and blind trust in her had distorted my judgment, masking the venomous glances and the sarcastic responses, the flinches whenever she heard him call me "Little Sparrow" and once he had granted me my own ship and crew just before he died... perhaps she had become overcome with a jealousy that she had hidden so well. I know that Asmaya had never forgiven me after his execution. Perhaps that was another reason she despised me...she had blamed me for his capture and death. To have lost such a friend...someone I shared such a deep, profound connection with because of a man caused my heart to become heavy with sadness.

I would have given up on Abd Al-Basir a thousand times over if it had meant that I still had Asmaya by my side.

::

It was frustrating to be immobile. Before the construction of our camp, many of the elves had thrown me disdainful looks, whispering in their own language whilst their eyes were fixed on my face, or loudly conversing in a tongue I understood with the obvious intention that I overhear. They were saying that it was my injury putting the unit's movement on hold and that Iorveth had instructed that we go no further until I was well enough to walk. I hadn't believed Aggi when he had told me. For the brutish, scarred and cutting elf to have considered my well-being as important was unimaginable. Until it occurred to me that he had indeed been checking up on my condition far too often for someone who did not care and that it was he who had instructed the herbalist to assist me in my healing process.

I wriggled around in the pitch black darkness, using my elbows to prop myself up and slowly raise my upper body until I was in a slouched, sitting position, carefully making sure that my rolled up wad of ruined, bloodied clothing was behind my lower back and supporting me. A hot flash of pain shot through my body, my stomach wound throbbing beneath it's bindings as I tried to get comfortable and groaned, slowly lighting a tiny lantern with my tinderbox. It would not be wise for me to take another sip from my vial of milk of poppy and mandragora solution so soon unless I wished to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber for another few hours, however strong the temptation to do so. I frowned deeply; impatient and ashamed of my bedridden condition before hastily reaching for my ivory pipe and worn, velvet tobacco pouch; only to find that it was empty. The pouch bounced across the floor as I angrily flung it to the other side of the minuscule space, breathing deeply and evenly in an attempt to stifle the growing fury at the pit of my belly.

I had not been injured like this for years. My constant training with Asmaya having allowed me to develop a finesse when it came to fast-paced skirmishes on the battlefield. During my first years at sea, we had risen early everyday and practiced on deck before the crew awoke; an expeditious Zerrikanian sword-art named _Nakhtui_ combined with the brash brawling typical to pirates untrained in martial arts or swordplay. The fusion style allowed one to nimbly dance across the battleground with ease whilst leaving a path of destruction in one's wake. Only once had I come close to death in battle, the deep scar running diagonally from the centre of my back to my left hip; a reminder of how the gods had decided to be kind on that day.

"Esseath effro, inh'eid?" The flaps of my tent opened and I blinked slowly upon seeing Iorveth's head poke through, his face expressionless as he invited himself in before sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bedroll, casting candlelight shadows across the animal skin walls. He was dressed plainly, his armour discarded and his muscular, forearms now bare, clad simply in a loose, wide-necked undershirt that ended just above his knees over thin woollen leggings, his deep red bandana still strapped on tightly, covering his missing eye and the elaborate, leaf-design of his tattoo clearly visible. It was the third time this week he had done this, and just like both of those nights, he had brought a steaming cupful of herbal broth with him. "Drink this," he instructed plainly, holding the wooden cup towards me, his one hazel-green eye searching my face as if examining me, "It's scutellaria with sage and peppermint. To ease the pain," he sniffed, watching as I tentatively took the cup from him, catching the scent of leafy, earthy steam. His hand slightly grazed my own, his skin radiating heat and surprisingly soft to the touch. I twitched at the contact, inhaling sharply as I felt a sudden ripple of...something spread through my insides; warm and exciting, yet unwanted.

I furrowed my brow and eyed the liquid warily, before placing the cup on the ground without taking a single sip, folding my arms expectantly, "Why are you in here, again?" Iorveth shrugged gently as he filled his plain, wooden pipe with tobacco from the chequered black and white pouch at his waist. He offered the pouch towards me and I shook my head, watching as he placed it on the floor in front of his crossed legs.

"I enjoy your company," he stated, lighting the pipe with a spark from his flint and steel before pocketing the device. He took a drag, his intense gaze never leaving my face as he once again studied my expression slowly and carefully before exhaling, "I know of your expedition. But I want to know what exactly it is, that you wish to find in these lands."

I remained unexpressive and unimpressed, unsure what to decipher from the actions of the elf, "Firstly, you once again didn't ask for my permission to enter...I could've been dressing. Secondly, aren't you worried about what your troops may think? The fact that you have stopped your unit's movement only because of my injury, the fact that you are willing to use your herbalists supplies to aid my recovery...you slyly slipping into my tent so often and so late at night?"

A flicker of an amused smirk crossed the elf's face and he blew another cloud of smoke into the air, "Your second point is merely a speculation. We've stopped in order to avoid any chance of encountering the unit of Northern troops most likely sent to find the one we slaughtered; they won't find us here...tomorrow we move on, whether you can stand or not." He snorted, "I don't know where you got the idea that you were so important that I would bring my entire regiment to a standstill just for your sake." I glared at him as he cracked his knuckles and stretched, "As for slipping into your tent, I assure you that the unit knows my intentions are only to converse with you. It has been many years since I encountered a Zerrikanian, let alone one of sidh blood...and it would feel wrong to let the only child of Cairbre aep Diared die." I felt heat rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment and annoyance, but noticed as his eyes softened and he lowered his voice, "But yes, you intrigue me. I would be lying if I said that you didn't..." he said gently, then took another puff form his pipe. I sighed, lowering my gaze as I took a sip from the herbal concoction he had brewed for me, the taste refreshing and soothing, "I'm not sure what to make of you and your intentions, Iorveth," the elf gave a small half-smile, a contrast to the hardened, unreadable scowl that he always wore, but dismissed my comment.

"Tell me the tales of your land..."

He was eager to hear of Zerrikania; attentive and focused, drawing in every word as I painted images of lush green, tropical forests and barren, sand-filled wastelands full of extraordinary beasts of enormous size; spiders covered in deep orange spots that trapped elephants in their webs; the gigantic _tsetse_ fly that bred in the most revolting process; laying it's eggs inside a mans body until the larvae matured within the hosts head, the victims brain serving as sustenance before the adult flies squeezed through its eye sockets. I described many of the other beasts that roamed the deserts and forestlands of my country, moving on to gush about my time at sea, our beautiful, extravagant cities and traditional, delicious foods and spices that were considered exotic and strange over here in the Northern Realms. The first few times we had spoken like this, I had been unwilling to oblige, but as time went on, I found that I was comfortable conversing with him; relaxed and at ease...enjoying it and laughing with him. He was intelligent, curious about the ways of my country and full of an abundance of questions that I enthusiastically answered, a pang in my gut as I described all that I missed and longed for.

We spoke of many things that evening; my father and the dreams of freedom and equality he and Iorveth had shared, Asmaya and her betrayal, my treasure-hunt expedition and my mother. On the most part, he would avoid any questions about himself, quickly turning the conversation back to me, rarely giving anything about himself away as if afraid to delve too deep. However, once we began to talk of race-related politics, an uneasy tension began to build, cracking the serene atmosphere that we had created after hours of talking, the lantern burning lower and lower. His manner changed when the topic began to touch upon these sensitive issues. It was odd to hear him sound almost vulnerable, his voice low and uninhibited and his words honest and open.

"We fight for a just cause. This is the only way I know..." Iorveth's voice was growing impatient. Impatient at my constant dismissal of his methods for obtaining peace, impatient at the lack of results despite the years he had put into trying to achieve freedom for he and his people. He always seemed so sure and confident in his beliefs and actions, yet as time went on, his constant effort to persuade me that the ways of the Scoia'tael were correct almost started to sound as if he were also trying to convince himself that he was still doing the right thing.

We fell silent, the lantern's tiny flame flickering erratically as it began to burn out, "I feel that it's only right that I am honest with you, Iorveth. Your inherent hatred for all humans and murder of innocent families and children is abhorrent...surely it almost makes you the same as those oppressing you, can't you see-"

"Duwiau g'hardd, don't you _dare_ compare me to those scum!" Iorveth snarled, his eye furious, blazing in the dim light of the lantern, "This is the only way we can _make_ them see...this is the only way." He scratched his collarbone and averted his eye from my glare, "But then, why did I expect you to understand?"

"You cannot _make_ them see," I spat, insulted at his constant patronising and belittling of my views and background.

"I may not know how it feels to be constantly hated and oppressed because of my ears, but I know this..." I paused, watching as he raised his gaze back to mine, attentive yet skeptical and stubborn, "If it were I fighting for equality, I would take it. I would forcefully take it as it is a _right_ I deserve, just as you are trying to. But I would be cleverer...you have been fighting this war for over a hundred years, Iorveth, and what has terrorising civilians done but cause the death of more non-humans and given the Nordlings more reason to fear and hate our kind? Perhaps I am naïve and my ideas unfathomable, foreign and unachievable, but if Dol Blathanna is a lost cause full of old, sterile elven folk...maybe you must gather the people like you; those who are hoping to forge a better, stable future, and start again. Find somewhere else to start again together, away from this."

Iorveth remained silent, fingering his wooden tobacco pipe, "Do you know how old I am?" He re-crossed his legs, one eye never leaving my face, "I am almost one hundred and forty years old...young for an elf, but probably three or four times your age." He breathed out slowly and filled the pipe with tobacco once again, "If it were as easy as that, we would have done so many years ago - there is no where for us. Our land was snatched from beneath our feet and we have been ostracised, raped and murdered ever since the dh'oine set foot on it. That is why many of us, your father included, feel the need to take it back by force - there is no other option."

The elf lit his pipe and stood slowly to his feet, squatting as to keep his head from hitting the tent's roof, "I must retire, dawn is but a few hours away...thank you, I enjoy our talks." _Our talks._ His expression had changed once again; thoughtful and pensive and with furrowed brow, yet it seemed that there was something troubling the elf, something he had kept from me. I took a sip from my waterskin, "You're tired of this life, Iorveth." He turned away from me, reaching for the tent entrance but pausing to let me continue, "Every time I look at you, you seem troubled," Iorveth opened the tent flaps and stepped into the darkness outside, the glow from a fire just visible and softly illuminating the camp a short distance away. He stooped, leaning back in once more, exhaling a cloud of grey, furling smoke, that curled and danced around his face, "Dea'rme...Leya," he said in hushed tones, then turned and left, leaving behind his scent; the comforting smell of earthy, ground tobacco, herbs and the deep musk of summer rain.

::

For two weeks longer we marched alongside the Scoia'tael, our stops few and short; resting only to refill our waterskins or tend to wounds, before we reached the outskirts of another small village named Golina. The journey had been arduous and despite my injury only having sliced less than an inch into my flesh, the pain was keeping me at the back of the unit. Aggi had lent me his shillelagh and slowed to my pace in order to keep me company as Iorveth and the elves strode ahead, their footsteps almost inaudible against the soft grasses of the fields we crossed, their chatter at a minimum as the fatigue began to set in. We hadn't eaten well for days; chewing only on roots, dried fruit and salted strips of dry meat, our stomachs growling and groaning in protest with every step of the way.

Aggi put a hand on my shoulder, waddling slowly whilst keeping his eyes fixed ahead, "Be careful around him..." he muttered, giving a slight nod towards the front of the unit. I followed the direction of his movement to see that he was staring at Iorveth, concern upon his rugged, bearded face and his deep blue eyes narrowed. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth at his almost fatherly anxiety at my well-being and I nodded as the dwarf continued to speak lowly, "He seems to have quickly and unexpectedly taken a liking to you..." the dwarf stated, "And before you disagree, I've been around a lot longer than you have - I know what men are like around a woman they desire. Elf, dwarf, halfing – we're all the same when it comes to females." I remained silent, choosing to politely ignore his advice and instead continue to painfully hobble forwards, "He wishes to understand my culture, just as you often do. Our views are so different...he simply wants to learn." I shrugged, "I enjoy our conversations."

The dwarf stopped walking and looked up at me in disbelief, his forehead creased and mouth upturned in disapproval, "If I recall, you were recently pointing out to me how his actions disgusted you. He killed our companions only a few weeks ago! I do hope we haven't stumbled upon a distraction...don't think I haven't seen you gawking…" The dwarf grumbled to himself lowly, the only words my ears picking up on being _fickle_ and _women._ I frowned and grabbed Aggi's arm, tightly gripping the material of his jerkin, "Don't think me weak, I still do not condone his actions. As for Asmaya and her henchman – she was a _traitor,_ I spit on her." I spat angrily, then gritted my teeth, "Iorveth is leading us closer to Dol Blathanna. Don't think I've forgotten why I sailed here, Aggi." I released his arm then sped off as quickly as my injury would allow, grinding my teeth, embarrassed and fuming that Aggi would think that I would permit the Scoia'tael get in the way of our expedition to the Blue Mountains, that I would allow a _man,_ of all things, to come between myself and my goal.

But I was also angry at myself for knowing that a mutual attraction did indeed exist between Iorveth and I…perhaps it was obvious to everyone, if even Aggi had noticed. It was undeniable. I could feel it as soon as he entered my tent the first time. An unspoken, charged excitement that caused a fluttering, fiery heat to rise from the centre of my sex and spread throughout my entire body. Every time our eyes had met, our gazes had held a few seconds longer than they perhaps should have, my stomach turning in anticipation and causing me to take a sharp intake of breath.

He was captivating. Intriguing in spirit to say the least; stubborn, intelligent and full of an eagerness to learn and do what he believed was right. Captivating in stature and build; tall, wide-chested and athletic, striking features that were both beautiful and fearsome, his one visible hazel-green eye often offering an intense, unwavering stare that caused my skin to flush and my heart to become erratic. I couldn't help but be attracted to him both physically and mentally. Beneath the chiseled, scarred exterior of a battle-worn elf bent on causing the humans of the North hell was something much more than what people knew. He wasn't a brainless, ignorant fool as the tales would have caused one to believe...his thoughts ran deeper than simply mindlessly murdering and slaying for a lost cause. I had come to the conclusion that he was beginning to doubt the Scoia'tael's sole use of brute force against oppression; he was starting to feel that a change in tactics was necessary. The only question was who or what could inspire that change.

::

We made camp in the woods a short way away from Golina, Iorveth forbidding that anyone step foot into the village for fear of causing an unwanted ruckus. It would be only a few days before we reached Dfyne, the city where Aggi and I must part ways with the Scoia'tael unit and continue our expedition into the Blue Mountains alone, yet I knew that my stomach injury would keep us in the city for at least a few more days.

Sitting alone at the very edge of the clearing, I slowly ran my fingers over the poultice encrusted bandages bound across my abdomen beneath my shirt, wincing as they came into contact with the bruising that surrounded the wound, but noticing already how the skin was beginning to repair itself. It had been lucky that I had been able to deflect at least a little of the swords momentum as it had struck me; only a few inches deeper and I would have lost my liver and quickly bled to death...despite the intense pain, it was merely a flesh wound. A sigh escaped my lips and I clasped my hands together, observing as the elves set up their tents and laid out their bedrolls, a small, female elf beginning to light a fire in the centre of the encampment as Iorveth sat with his second-in-command, Brenin, deep in frantic conversation. I watched them closely, noticing the anger on Brenin's face, a dark scowl across his features and his movements aggressive.

Most elves were considered beautiful, yet I failed to find anything attractive about Brenin. Perhaps to most people, he would be perceived as handsome aesthetically, but I could not see past his attitude. His hair was a deep, reddish brown, long, unruly and tied hastily into a bun atop his head, sharp elven features on a long face that was too often smirking sarcastically or pouting in disapproval, his eyes dark and full of hatred.

He despised me. His reasons for hating me were very clear; I was a half-breed whore and Iorveth's interest

in me angered him. Whilst Iorveth's use of the term _inh'eid_ or "half-elf" almost felt like a term of endearment, Brenin's use of the word stemmed from hatred for the half of me which is human. He never referred to me by my name, only ever with what I assumed to be slurs in his in own language - unless Iorveth was in our presence. He was frightening. I had seen the way he'd hacked into the soldiers during the battle; an almost gleeful expression of sadistic pleasure on his face, as if the battle had been a game. And I had never failed to notice the way he watched me. Whenever I was in his presence, his face would be curled into a disgusted scowl, as if an unbearable foul stink had consumed the area.

It was an expression that could've caused milk to curdle.

"I want to speak with you, mrit'hgi." Brenin had approached me after our eyes had met from across the camp. After his apparent argument with Iorveth had ended, the commander had left Brenin to sulk and angrily wring his hands until our gazes had awkwardly connected. He stood with his hands upon his hips, mouth twisted into an unatural, unwelcoming smile and eyes cold and empty. Whatever his conversation with Iorveth had been about, the end result had clearly angered him greatly. I stood slowly, one hand on my stomach and the other using the ground to steady myself until I was upright and glaring into his freckled face, making sure that I was standing straight and masking my pain. " _Caed'mil_ , Brenin." The elf stifled a wince at my use of his language and I smirked, enjoying how easily provoked the idiot was yet remained on edge, weary of his presence.

He never once had wanted to talk to me alone, only addressing me if Iorveth had instructed him to do so or if he wanted to order me to collect firewood or pick herbs. He glanced over his shoulder, perhaps to check whether Aggi or Iorveth were scrutinising the situation, then turned to lean in closely to my face, "You are a burden," he spat, nose wrinkled into a snarl, "You and your crippled dwarf do not belong with us, mrit'hgi. You are slowing us down...and I cannot simply stand and watch you attempting to indoctrinate and mislead our commander with your foreign, political agenda – you leave at Dfyne or I slit your throat. Even if that means I lose my own life by Iorveth's hand." He snorted and eyed me up, dragging his eyes from my feet to my breasts until his eyes landed on my face, "If Iorveth has already fucked you, it means no more than that he has not felt the touch of a woman for years...let alone an exotic specimen such as yourself. Do not think anything more of it. With the commander slipping into your tent so often, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that you had opened your legs on more than one occasion to try to keep him sweet..."

I punched him.

Before I could even think about my actions, my mind had clouded with such sudden fury that it almost felt as if my fist had moved on its own accord. I cradled my knuckles, my fist having caused Brenin to take several clumsy steps backwards as it painfully came into contact with his cheekbone. He spun around and lunged at me, his hand grasping for my arm, only to have Aggi spring forward, as if appearing from the air, and grab the young elf's wrist, twisting it until he yelled out and sank to the ground in submission.

"Do you have _any_ idea who you are dealing with, boy?!" Aggi bellowed, flinging Brenin's wrist from his grip, "If I hear you threatening my companion again, I will cut off your balls in your sleep!" The rest of the camp had silenced, the occasional yelled insult bursting through the tension as many elves reached for their weapons, glaring at the sight of their second-in-command having been beaten by two outsiders, but waiting for a command to either skin us alive or leave us be.

"We are here by temporary invitation!" Aggi continued, addressing the entire unit, "If you have a problem, take it up with your commander!" he threw a look at Iorveth who was marching furiously towards Brenin, barking in his language at the unit to get back to their chores. He stopped before Aggi, blocking his way, "Threaten my deputy again, I _dare_ you, dwarf!" he roared into his face before turning to Brenin, "I've warned you twice now-" he switched quickly into his mothertongue, snapping and cursing at his deputy commander in Elder Speech before letting Brenin head angrily into the trees. Iorveth turned to face me and I noted that Aggi had begun to slowly slip away, eyebrows raised as he resumed studying our maps and reading over my notes in preperation for the continuation of our expedition. The elven commander shook his head, eyes softer now Brenin was no where to be seen, "You are causing a disturbance..." he stated lowly, "My troops are already divided as to whether having you here with us is a good idea and feel we should leave you here at Golina. Many still do not trust-"

"I cannot _help_ being only half of your race," my voice was shrill and cutting, causing Iorveth to open his mouth to respond, but re-think and close it once again. "When I arrived in the Northern Realms, I knew that I would experience...difficulties because of my ears. I never considered myself to be an elf of any sorts until I stepped foot in your lands and realised that that was all anyone would see. It was strange to me that the humans here would go as far as violence, humiliation and rape." I folded my arms tightly across my chest, eyes boring into his face, "In my lands I am feared, I am respected and no-one _dares_ lay a finger on me. To be reduced to a second-class citizen is hard for me to grasp and understand...but it has also opened my eyes and driven me to wanting to find people like you; people who want to create change. Never did I expect to recieve the same hostility from the people I had hoped would consider me a part of their community." I laughed sarcastically, lowering a hand to my stomach as a wave of pain rippled through my lower body, "I had hoped that I could re-join the Scoia'tael on their travels after my expedition. I don't condone all of your actions, but I believe in what you fight for. I have never had a group of people I consider to be my community since sailing with Abd Al-Basir. How wrong I was to think that I would find solace amongst the people who stem from one of the most defining parts of my heritage."

"It would also seem that you enjoy pissing me off. Your deputy seems to think that you are only trying to sleep with me." I stated blandly, "I propose that we keep our distance from now on, there are but a few more days that we are to travel with you. I've learnt all I need to know of my father...and you have kept your word and led us to where Aggi and I need to be." The tall elf shifted the bow slung across his back, the look upon his face taking me by surprise; anguished and hurt, brow knitted together in irritation, "It pains me to know that you would think so lowly of me." He turned away and disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone, cradling my swollen fist and sitting for the rest of the day, stewing in fury and frustration.

::

I awoke early, making sure that I had packed down my tent before the majority of the unit had risen. Across my back I had slung my bow, my quiver rattling at my side as I smoked from my ivory, basilisk shaped pipe and strode into the forest, the grass beneath my boots wet with dew and the air thick and heavy with moisture. The summer air felt fresh upon my skin, the sweet perfume of petals and damp moss and the twitter of birds as they flittered from their nests merged with the low hum of insects in the undergrowth creating a reassuring, calm aura. My walk continuted until I reached a grove full of wide, thick trunked trees whose branches stretched way up into the skies, their leaves lush and deep green, buzzing with life. It was a pleasant spot. I set my bow upon the ground, leaning it against one of the treetrunks closest to where I stood, unwrapping and taking a bite from the dried meat and hardened bread that I had hastily stuffed into my leather travelling bag and sipping eagerly from my waterskin.

Since yesterday morning I had forced myself to wake up early and practice archery in an attempt to keep my upper body strength consistent. I enjoyed the time alone, basking in the silence and serenity of the woods, away from the anxious eyes of the unit, the prying of Iorveth's scouts and away from Aggi's constant prodding and pestering. It was a cathartic activity. I scrawled targets upon the grey bark of each tree in the grove, my hands black and dusty with charcoal after I had finished and stood with my hands on my hips, breathing deeply and steadying my thoughts as if in deep meditation.

My first shot thudding deep into the wood, just above a target's centre, juddering frantically until it came to a standstill, the sparrow feathers quivering to and fro. I started slowly, working my way around the circle of trees, making sure that I was precise and methodical in my approach as I gradually shortened the time between each release of an arrow. I drew back the bowstring, my right hand close to my cheek and my eyes focused on the centre of a target to my left as I prepared myself to release the arrow - until another zipped past my face and pierced the target's centre accurately and beautifully. I swiftly whirled around, bow still ready to fire and heart racing in anticipation of perhaps coming face to face with an enemy, then stumbled over my own, underpracticed footing, letting out a small yelp of pain as I tumbled backwards into a large bush covered in white flowers at the foot of one of the grove trees, a throaty laugh coming from whoever it was who had startled me.

Frantically I lept to my feet, wincing in pain at my stomach wound but ready to attack, only to lock eyes with Iorveth, his fine, large zefhar bow in his hands, quiver at his waist. Iorveth approached me slowly, a small smile playing on his lips, amused at my clumsy fall, then simply drew back his bow, effortlessly hitting another target dead in it's centre. "You need to stop creeping up on me! Stalking me into the trees...how long have you been watching?" I scowled, brushing the pollen from my hair and clothes, but watching him keenly, taking in every technique that he was applying with perfected finesse; from the way he held steadily the bow, to the way his fingers would remain after releasing the arrow...it was true when they said that the elves and dryads of the Northern Realms were the best archers in the world.

He glanced at me, noticing that I stood observing his every move and lowered his bow, "I was merely in the area; there is a stream close by and I could hear your shooting - why have you stopped? I'm already catching up with your score." I stifled a small snort, notching an arrow onto my bowstring, surprised at his playfulness despite what had happened yesterday evening. Perhaps he was trying to prove to me that his subordinate was wrong. He wasn't interested in me as simply an object to saite his regained lust for women; he wanted to be in my presence because he enjoyed it...and it seemed that I couldn't resist spending time alone with him anyhow. Aggi's accusation of my fickleness came to light as I remembered my anger and demand for us to keep our distance. But I couldn't help it. Never before had I been so drawn to anyone in this way; I couldn't stop myself from wanting to be with him.

For three hours we practiced, the competition playful yet intensely competitive as we laughed and poked fun at one another as if we had years of friendship behind us. We enthusiastically shared advice and techniques we had learnt from the oppositie sides of the seas; Iorveth effortlessly scoring more points than I had obtained and chuckling as I childishly scowled whilst collecting my arrows from the trees. "If this were a matter of swordplay, it would be over within a matter of seconds with me as the victor and you on the floor." Iorveth snorted sarcastically as he finished collecting his arrows, quickly inspecting his bow and then returning to stand beside me, blinking slowly as his eyes settled on my face. "I didn't notice before...you still have pollen on..." he trailed off and reached forward tentatively, fingers grazing my cheek as he brushed the deep orange powder from my skin, his thumb gently tracing across my cheekbone.

Time froze, my heart pounding at the contact and my breathing deepening when his fingers lingered there. His fingertips remained on my skin for a few seconds longer; warm and slightly calloused, one deep green eye full of wonder focused on my own. I took a step back, lowering my gaze and Iorveth dropped his hand to his side, a silence passing between us as we both evaluated the situation, unsure of what had just happened. Iorveth piped up first, "I want you to know that my subordinate is wrong. He's a wise commander and I trust him with my life, but he is often rash and has a foul temper." Iorveth took a step towards me, closing the gap I had created, his expression intent and sincere, "I don't...what we are creating is more than just some primative, lust-driven conquest. I could never see you in that way, I have the upmost respect for you and I simply wish to learn more. You are _ensh'eass_ in many ways, Leya."

 _Ensh'eass_ _._ I did not know that word. My heart drooped for a second as I tried to decipher whether he was explaining that he saw me simply as someone he could not desire; simply as a potential friend or ally, or if he was trying to explain that he saw me in both lights...was this a confession that he acknowledged the mutual attraction that had begun to develop between us? Regardless, his sincereity astounded me...perhaps then, this was indeed an admission of his interest in me?

I paused, over-thinking and pondering on his words then raised my head, "What does _ensh'eass_ mean?" Iorveth shifted the bow on his back, his eye once again fixed on my own, "Unlike humans, we elves are not a slave to our passions. It has been many years since I have found myself so...enthralled by and attracted to another. _Ensh'eass_ means beautiful in my language, but much deeper than simply in looks; it's a beauty that touches your soul. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't captivated by you..." His expression remained expectant yet calm and tender. If any other man had used the words Iorveth had just uttered, I wouldn't have believed him. From any other mouth, they would have appeared cliché and meaningless. Yet despite Iorveth having shown me that he was someone who had absolute confidence in his feelings. And as much as I wanted him physically, something in my gut didn't feel right. Something was confusing me. I should still despise this elf as I initially thought I did...this man who had slaughtered the entire population of a small village without gaining anything for his people. The man who only a few sleeps ago I considered an enemy.

 _You leave at Dyfne or I slit your throat._

I shook my head, "I can't. I may not be as eloquent as you when it comes to putting it into words, I do...I find myself deeply attracted to you too, but this isn't..." A sigh escaped my lips and I reached out slowly, placing a hand on Iorveth's arm, my fingers gently slipping around his forearm. I knew that if Iorveth and I decided to act upon our attraction, the most accomplished and respected Scoia'tael unit would rip apart and my feelings were conflicted. Confusion. My fingers tightened slightly, tracing shapes onto his skin through the material of his shirt, the heat rising again as my heartbeat sped up…I wanted him with every fibre of my being.

I released his arm.

"Aggi and I must continue our expedition and leave you and your Scoia'tael unit behind at Dyfne as planned. Surely we can't…" I trailed off at the small smile that played on Iorveth's lips. "We can take our time." The elf looked up into the canopy and folded his arms, the soft light of the morning sun illuminating his pale skin and bringing out the leafy greens and browns of his one hazel eye, a gentle breeze moving the fine, deep brown hair that peeked out from under his crimson bandana, "We can take our time." Iorveth repeated, his eye now focused back on me, "For I will be coming with you…"

 **Sidh –** Elven

 **D** **uwiau g'hardd** – Gods forbid

 **Dea'rme –** Goodnight

 **Esseath effro?** – Are you awake?

 **In'heid** \- Half-elf

 **Mrit'hgi –** Mongrel, half-breed

 **Caed'mil –** Greetings, hello

 **Ensh'eass** – Beautiful, magical, charming


	5. Chapter V: Spiritual Guidance

**Happy New Year! I apologise for the delay, once again, life became quite hectic. Hoping you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Warning: A little bit of Smut!**

Follow me on Tumblr: CocoaOtaku

 **Spiritual Guidance**

 **Chapter V**

"Do you not see her, Leya?"

His hand reached forward, fingertips against the surface of my cheek as he tilted my head in an attempt to guide my gaze. I squinted, narrowing my eyes as I studied the vast midnight skies and her glinting orbs of light, trying to connect them as one would connect a puzzle, yet unable to make out the celestial shapes that Iorveth could see. _Dana Méadbh._ The mother of all creation in his religion was often visible during warm Spring evenings, her figure faintly etched against the night sky, her hair adorned with flowers and sweet herbs; at her left-hand side a young stag, at her right a hedgehog.

I squinted again.

But all that appeared to me…were dragons.

::

The veil could only disguise my ears so much as I swept through the bustling market place. It had been weeks since I had had the opportunity to become a part of civilisation again. It was refreshing to hear the exuberant bellows of stall owners proclaiming that their produce was the most sought after in the land; to smell street vendors frying and grilling fish and meat at their fires, the perfume of fresh fruit, herbs and flowers thick on the warm air and newly dyed rolls of cotton and wool flittering in the slight breeze as customers inspected their quality. I grinned to myself, reaching out to gently run my fingers across a yard of deep green velvet that hung from a stall-owner's stand, the fabric full and smooth against my skin.

I had been informed that the elves would be celebrating this night. Celebrating what exactly I hadn't understood until Iorveth had taken the time to explain that it was the beginning of what he and his kinsmen called _Balthe_ – the fifth savaed, or the fifth month, of an eight-month year. Every year the transition from the previous savaed to Blathe was marked by festivities, feasting and dancing as part of what was called the _Belletyn_ festival; a celebration of fertility and love, the traditional day to begin new relationships…or end those worn old.

We did not measure time in the same way in my lands…and the gods that Iorveth worshipped were meaningless to me, but the thought of relaxing and enjoying myself in the company of both he and Aggi after all that had happened in the past month or so was comforting. We had once again not eaten properly in several days and I had decided to purchase ingredients to bake a traditional Zerrikanian sweet bread for the feast as well as take my weathered garments to a seamstress for repairing. The preparation for the festivities reminded me of the many times in my past where Asmaya and I would sneak into the local parties at the ports we docked at; our clothes colourful, shimmering and silken and our bellies full of spiced foods and sweet alcohol as we danced away to the heavy rhythms of the musicians…

Perhaps as the Belletyn festival symbolises new beginnings, the time had come to put my grievances behind me and stop lamenting on memories from a time long past…perhaps it was time to take a step forward onto my new pathway.

::

Aside from a few curious glances, not one civilian had given me trouble or approached me during my visit to the marketplace. As I set the wicker basket full of ingredients and utensils beside the opening of my tent, Aggi pelted towards me with his hand outstretched, a furious, dark scowl across his face as he grabbed my arm and dragged me a short distance into the trees. "Greetings to you too, Aggi," I snapped, pulling my arm from his grasp and removing the royal blue veil from my head. The dwarf paced before me, his brow furrowed so deeply that a crease had formed in the centre of his forehead, "He is not coming with us. I can't- _what_ the _feck_ where you _thinking?_ Have you not learnt who this elf is?" his voice was strained; wary and lowered in case of being overheard but cutting. I narrowed my eyes in confusion, tucking a lose dreadlock behind my left ear as my train of thought swept from one memory to the next. And then it came to me.

 _We can take our time, for I will be coming with you…_

I lowered my eyes. Since our encounter in the woods, Iorveth and I had not spoken about his demand. I had labelled it a demand since I had not asked him to accompany us…and I had not yet agreed whether he indeed would be travelling alongside Aggi and I to the Blue Mountains. His self-invitation had been a surprise to me, in fact, the entire happening had been a daze. Whether I wanted him to accompany us or not, I was still unsure. I inhaled sharply as my body reminded me of the deep, sparked attraction that I had felt between us during that moment. The way his gaze had connected with my own, his expression a jumble of warmth and compassion, desire and longing akin to my own. The way his fingers had felt against my cheek and his forearm, wide and muscular, had felt in my grasp as we stood closely. So close that I could feel the faintness of his breath on my skin and catch his deep, earthy scent. I bit my lip.

"Leya?" Aggi barked, bringing me back to reality as he stopped pacing. "Iorveth is not coming with us." I sighed and adjusted the belt at my waist,

"Nothing is confirmed, Aggi. But we may need him more than you think…he could be of assistance." I trailed off as I noted his glare but shrugged lightly, "I know that you believe my reasons for accepting his aid are shallow, but I've been thinking about it for a while; neither of us speaks Elder Speech, and the ruins are Elven. We could miss something if we don't take a native guide. If we encounter a situation that requires that knowledge, we could be endangering ourselves." Aggi snorted exasperatedly, planting his thick hands firmly on his hips and looking up into the canopy,

"I've already told you, once we meet Garth, he-"

"Aggi, I know that as a good friend you're trying to look out for me. So let me be honest with you – I'm not allowing myself to become distracted or putting us in any danger. I trust him. And you know me, I don't trust easily." I rested my hand on Aggi's arm, looking down into his eyes and seeing the uncertainty on his face "If he doesn't come with us…I will never see him again." Aggi sighed deeply, pausing as he thought carefully about his response, shifting from one foot to the other.

"I understand what it's like to feel a connection with someone. But to let your emotions rule you…" he dwindled, running his hands through his beard, combing through the thick, grey-speckled ginger hair. "If you trust him, Aleyanerie." He grasped my hand tightly, concern upon his face, "If you trust him then I will believe in that. But whatever it is that you feel for this elf, you must remember who he is and what he has done. Iorveth would not have hesitated to cut your throat if you had somehow inherited your mother's ears instead of your father's. Remember that."

::

The night air was thick with smoke, the smell of roasting meat smothered in herbs and hot broth bubbling over the fire causing my shrunken stomach to tie itself into knots in anticipation. I kneaded my dough on a slate of stone, my knuckles and wrists coated in a thin dusting of flour as I hummed a melody from my childhood, lost in insignificant thoughts. The rest of the unit had been kinder to me this evening, giving me permission to use their fire to bake my contribution to the festivities and offering various alcoholic beverages, the last of which I had drank being a small cupful of clear liquid that tasted almost like nothing, but burned on the way down my throat and caused me to cough and splutter. They had laughed at my response, simply pouring me another as they prepared their own food, Brenin strumming loudly on his lute and singing in a surprisingly clear and delicate voice as the atmosphere began to warm.

Iorveth crouched beside me, his eyes fixated on my hands, "I see you're already on the _wódka_ ," he chuckled to himself, a cloud of smoke furling from his nostrils as he exhaled before taking another puff from his pipe and sipping from his cup. He sat cross-legged beside me in silence, watching me work before looking up from beneath his long, dark eyelashes, "This almost feels normal," he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. "You here, a part of our celebration…it's a small slither of carefreeness for all of us. Even the rest of the unit seem less uptight about your presence. Although perhaps that's the drink." I smiled, nodding in agreement as I coiled the large mound of dough into a thick spiral, sprinkling the surface with chopped acorns. This land didn't have the same ingredients as Zerrikania…there were no almonds to be found, hence the acorns, and it had been pure luck that I had stumbled upon enough sugar and orange blossom water for the dough. "What is it you are making?"

"A sweet treat for special occasions called _m'hanncha._ Or snake bread." I held up the finished creation before placing it onto a skillet over the fire, "I used to make it a lot as a child…and wanted to contribute to your celebrations." Iorveth smiled before leaning closer to me, his breath smoky and hot, the scent of something sweeter and stronger than tobacco, "I hear that your dwarf friend has agreed to me travelling alongside you." I froze, turning slowly to look at him,

"How did-"

"I have many eyes and ears. There are no secrets here." The elf shifted his weight arrogantly, resting his head upon his knuckles with a smirk upon his face, "Where you wish to travel is holy ground. What lies there is said to be more than simply riches - many a religious elf has travelled to Glyn'dwr Gate in search of solace…you will encounter so much that is foreign and incomprehensible."

He leaned further in, closing the gap between us. My heart thudded frantically within my chest, the heat that radiated from his face warm against my own, his eyes slightly red and heavy-lidded as he turned his head to the side and exhaled once again. He turned back to look at me, his voice now lowered, deep and bewitching, "You have no choice but to take me with you tomorrow, inh'eid…" A silence passed between us, the tension building. He was consciously teasing me. I breathed deeply and shook my head, pushing him away in order to break the spell,

"You're terrible." I turned my attention back to the slowly baking sweet treat on the fire, turning it over with a stick, "No decision has been made."

The elf laughed gaily at my response and stood to his feet, pipe hanging from his lips and drink in hand, "Let us forget about that for tonight. Tonight is a rare occasion where my troops and I get to bask in our traditions uninhibited by thoughts of the dh'oine." Iorveth raised his wooden cup in a toast and nodded, " _Am rh'yd_ , _hechyd ny Scoia'tael!"_ He took a sip of the beverage and smiled, "To freedom, health and the Scoia'tael. I will enjoy celebrating with you tonight…" And with that, he slowly backed away before turning to discuss matters with Brenin who had been watching from afar, carefully and with pinched expression, for the entirety of our conversation, a sneer creasing across his features as soon as our eyes connected.

::

The music of the elves was fast-paced and merry, a band of musicians on fiddle, wooden flute and Brenin's lute sounding at the edge of the clearing, those who had already had their fill of alcohol swirling, dancing and bobbing to the sprightly beat of the small frame drum. I sat beside Aggi at the side of the encirclement, swaying gently in time with the music and sipping on yet another cupful of fruity, dark wine, the alcohol causing my body to buzz and my mind to dizzy as I entered a relaxed state. The air was full of laughter and yells as the celebration began to unfurl and just as the majority of the elves were; I was already quite drunk.

My heel tapped gleefully in time with the drummer, cheeks flushed and a smile upon my face as Aggi was unwillingly pulled up from the dry log we perched upon to dance hand in hand around the fire. I laughed as he stumbled over his own feet before stepping in time with the beat as lively as his damaged leg would allow him to. He threw a look at me over his shoulder, a cross between dismay and enjoyment, before winking and losing himself in the music. I smiled to myself and took another gulp from my cup, wallowing in the joy and excitement of the celebration, my belly full and my heart warmed. My smile faltered a little; this is what it must have been like before the d'hoine stopped allowing elves to openly celebrate their traditions. This is how things must have been when my people were free...I paused and raised my eyes to the sky, letting out a sigh and shutting them tightly as a cool breeze passed through the clearing.

My people.

 _The d'hoine._

I corrected myself…perhaps it was far too early for me to start thinking of the Aen Seidhe as my people and using Iorveth's language. It was still apparent that I was an outsider, as confirmed by Brenin's constant watchful eye and occasional snide brow creased in frustration and I pushed the thoughts from my mind, gulping the rest of the wine with a single swig. Upon looking up I noticed the elven woman who had rescued me from the clutches of a Nordling scout that had tried to have his way with me a few weeks ago. She was petite, with dark, black hair, a stark contrast to her milky-white, freckle spattered skin, and bright hazel eyes, her cheeks ruddy due to intoxication.

A smile flashed upon her face and she daintily approached me, nodding in acknowledgement before slipping her hands into mine and pulling me to my feet, "Let's dance," she stated with a grin, beginning to gently jig beside the fire, many eyes watching as we twirled and swayed in time with the music. We turned in circles, the dance energetic and fiery before she leaned towards my ear, her hands sliding to my waist. I blinked slowly in surprise, noticing Iorveth watching with empty expression from beyond the fire, before she whispered gently into my ear, our dancing slowing and my stomach dropping,

"You may die tonight."

I stopped moving, frozen and slightly sober now. As I tried to take a step backwards, her grip tightened and she continued to direct our movements as if still dancing, "Three of us will try to kill you. I cannot say when, who or how, for I do not know. But you are viewed as a dangerous nuisance." She removed her hands from my waist, hazel eyes flashing in the glow of the fire,

"How do you know?"

"I am Iorveth's eyes and ears."

I snorted and tightly folded my arms as she began to back away from me. She turned before glancing over her shoulder, "Before you ask why I am warning you, I will let you know that I only do so because you are too valuable to my commander to die. You are opening his eyes which in turn open mine. No need to thank me…again." Without pausing, she turned to re-join her comrades, leaving me standing amidst those still drunkenly dancing to the ongoing beat of the band, feet pounding against the ground and arms thrown into the air or wrapped around the waist of a partner.

I watched her leave before slowly turning to sit back down on the dried timber. My eyes darted between the elves, examining each and every one of their faces; observing and scrutinising but identifying no obvious suspects. My gaze halted on Brenin, watching as he strummed his lute and sang, a messy bun tied at the top of his head, loose ginger strands flaying as he rocked back and forth in time with the music, eyes jovial and crinkled at the corners. It could only be him. His threat from a few days ago still rang clearly in my ears, sinister and aggressive,

 _You leave at Dyfne or I slit your throat. Even if that means I lose my own life by Iorveth's hand._

Yet he knew we were leaving tomorrow morning…perhaps then, he had decided that Iorveth travelling on the road with Aggi and I was the problem. He needed to get rid of me in order to protect his commander from what he believed was indoctrination. I frowned, wringing my hands together and pursuing my lips. However much Brenin despised my presence, surely he was intelligent enough to realise that if his attempt to dispose of me failed, Iorveth would still decide to accompany me to the Blue Mountains anyway. And as second-in-command to one of the most notorious and successful commanders in the Scoia'tael, disobeying or betraying him would most likely result in his exile from the force. Or even result in an uprisingthat could cause the Scoia'tael to fall apart from the inside. No…Brenin was in too much of a fragile position to actually harm me and it seemed he trusted in his commander far too much to defy him. His words were simply empty threats, surely?

I fidgeted, standing to my feet as I wiped sweaty hands upon my linen _harem_ pants, slowly turning away from the party. The only way to make sure that the planned attack was no longer an ambush…was to bait the assailants and draw them out. If the cowards wished to attempt to butcher me secretively, let them come. It was not the first time that my life had been in danger of assassination and yet here I stood, untouched and unscathed by any of the attacks. Any who had tried to dispose of me had quickly met their demise by my hand.

I took a deep breath, fingering the ornate handle of the _janbiya_ dagger at my left side before defiantly striding into the trees, as if withdrawing in order to relieve myself within the forest. A glance over my shoulder revealed no followers. Not one elf batted an eyelid or noticeably watched my descent into the darkness that surrounded the camp. Only the light from the moon illuminated my path; silvers and blues streaming through the canopy and casting elongated shadows of leaves upon my skin that danced as I moved. A rustle to my left-side caused me to startle and I frantically span in a circle, hand now tightly gripping the hilt of the only weapon that I had with me. My heartbeat sped up and I swallowed, conscious now that I was most likely being watched or approached, yet I heard no footsteps.

As soon as I turned to continue walking, a hand gripped my upper arm, yanking me towards the ground, I slashed at the unseen enemy, a pained grunt coming from the shadows as my dagger slit open soft flesh, blood spattering across my shirt. "C'nawes slaeth!" growled the elf, his face only just visible in the half-light, hand clutching the wound I had inflicted upon him. I sniffed, not uttering a word, only watching as two more elves began to circle me, their expressions hateful, swords and daggers in hand. Before either had a chance to attack, I jumped the injured elf, quickly puncturing his lung with my dagger before gracefully returning to my feet as he hit the ground spluttering and choking to death on his own blood.

The two remaining elves didn't even flinch, but began to strike simultaneously, backing me into a corner as they snarled and cursed at me in their own language, my dagger slicing at their chests, stomachs and hands. Just as one of my assaulters attempted to slit my jugular, an arrow swiftly caught her in the neck, sending her flying; dead before she hit the ground. Another hit the last remaining elf in the calf and he fell to the floor with a thud, screaming as he pulled at the arrow stuck deep in his muscle. I turned to see both Brenin and Iorveth marching towards me, lanterns and bows in hand. Brenin remained expressionless whilst Iorveth was fuming, a look upon his face that I had never seen before. He hauled the injured, bloodied elf up from the ground by the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the nearest tree. I approached my attacker and smashed my clenched fist into his stomach, "You are lucky your commander is here for if he had come a minute later, you would be slowly bleeding to death with your stomach open." I hissed through gritted teeth, taking a step back and folding my arms as Iorveth held him.

The winded elf began stuttering and pleading in Elder Speech but Iorveth wasn't listening, his mind clouded with anger, the tips of his ears red. "Tawel'wch, you piece of shit!" the commander thundered and the elf fell silent, still gripping the arrow imbedded in his flesh, his hands covered in thick crimson blood, clothes stained black. "Explain to me your intentions, Owein." Iorveth snarled, the veins on his hands visible as his clutch on the elf grew tighter. Owein winced in pain, glaring at me,

"Yr oe'dd ein inh'eid-"

"In Common Speech!" Iorveth spat, pressing him harder against the tree trunk. I glanced at Brenin who stood in silence with his bow trained on the elf, eyes never leaving his commander. Owein continued,

"It was our aim to assassinate the mrit'ghi. For the good of the Scoia'tael."

"You _dare_ refer to her as such, when we both stand before you?" Iorveth roared, he turned to me with furious eyes, "This scum doesn't even have the courtesy to refer to you by name, but as _mrit'ghi_ or 'mongrel'…" He breathed deeply in an attempt to contain his fury and raised his head to the sky, "By Aelirenn's blood, I will rip your throat from your neck with my bare hands if you insult her again. Now, _speak!_ "

I furrowed my brow and caught Brenin's eye. For weeks he had been referring to me as _mrit'ghi_ and I had never thought to ask what it meant, only knowing that it was definitely not a term of endearment. He stifled a snigger and gently shrugged, turning his gaze slowly back to the elf that stood before Iorveth and ignoring my scowl. The questioning continued only for a few more minutes before Iorveth began to take his anger out on the aggressor, beating him with the blunt end of his sword before I intervened and Brenin dragged the screaming elf away.

Just as Iorveth's 'eyes and ears' had said, there were a few elves in his unit who wanted me dead…who felt that I was changing their commander for the worst and indoctrinating him with radical, foreign ideas that in their eyes, would destroy the Scoia'tael and its values. There were others who trusted in Iorveth and despite being mindful of my human heritage and our developing companionship, believed that he knew exactly what he was doing. They would follow him no matter what and had learned of my opinions and the stories of my life in Zerrikania. Through Iorveth, they had come to foolishly admire me, according to Owein. These were the elves that had saved my life. Including Brenin.

::

As soon as the screaming had stopped, I knew that the deed had been done. Of course that was the only option, to kill the defective elf, for fear of inspiring an uprising within the unit if he survived. In the distance, the music and laughter rang through the trees, the celebrating individuals oblivious to the circumstances that had just occurred, Brenin returning to the festivities after consulting with his commander in calm and even Elder Speech, nodding at us both before slinging his bow across his back and noiselessly disappearing into the trees.

Once Brenin's silhouette was no longer visible, Iorveth put his hand on my shoulder, studying me silently. He reached for his discarded lantern and signaled for me to follow, "Cáemm, Arachas lurk here." He said in hushed tones, leading me deeper into the forest, the music growing fainter with each step. We reached a slight hill at the edge of the forest, covered in grasses and climbed to the top. The view was peaceful and unlike anything I had seen before; miles upon miles of trees and grasses, dark beneath the night sky, with the village I had visited earlier just visible in the distance, it's lights deep yellow and orange against the star-speckled sky. The only sounds were that of crickets whispering in the bushes and the occasional breeze that gently rustled through the treetops as we sat atop the hill.

"This won't happen again, Leya." Iorveth said, crossing his legs and taking out his pipe, "Once any others whose opinions align with those who attacked you tonight find out what happened to them…I can guarantee that not a finger will be lifted." I smiled, bringing out my own pipe and tobacco pouch,

"You like to play protector, don't you?" I teased, but Iorveth did not laugh, stuffing his pipe full of flaky, dry green leaves,

"I know you have the ability to defend yourself, I've seen you in battle. But my unit needed a message from me." He turned to look at me, "No-one can betray me and live." The commander sniffed, fiddling with his pipe before placing it on the ground, "But let us just enjoy the rest of our evening." He reached up to the red bandana strapped with thin leather fastenings to his head and unbuckled them. Slowly, he removed the long, pheasant feather tucked into the material before slipping it from his head and placing it gently beside his lap. "You haven't seen all of me." He said, his voice almost shameful, as if his injury was a disgrace and turned to face me, as if expecting me to reel in disgust.

In place of his right eye sat an empty socket, red and scarred, a deep, jagged line slicing through his cheek and ending just before his top lip. To some his face would seem ruined; elves were meant to be pure and beautiful and to some, imperfection was not beauty. But I did not care. I reached forward and ran my finger slowly across the mottled skin, rough against my hand and smiled, "And now I have seen all of you…I don't need to know how you got it...I have many scars too. People like us always do." he lowered his eyes and I cupped the side of his face, stroking my thumb across his cheekbone. "You arefrightfully alluring to me regardless of how you view yourself _."_ At that Iorveth snorted, an embarrassed grimace playing on his lips,

"You slur your words still. You're drunk."

I playfully pushed him, "And so are you, _commander._ What is that odd smelling herb in your pipe?" He looked up, retrieving his pipe,

"Hops."

"Hops?"

"Smoke with me…let's sit for a while."

Iorveth took my pipe and added a pinch of the fragrant leaves to it's bowl before lighting it and handing it back. He inhaled deeply from his own pipe and exhaled with a sigh, smoke rising into the night air, a strong, harsh aroma entering my nostrils. I tentatively puffed, trying my best not to choke and splutter as the hot, abrasive smoke hit the back of my throat. The taste was unlike anything I had experienced before; pleasant yet pungent like its smell. Aboard Abd Al-Basir's ship many of the crew members had taken opium or other stimulants, their shameful behaviour after taking such products the sole reason why I tended to stay away from substances like that.

But this was different. After we had smoked for a few minutes I began to feel something…entirely relaxed and warm all over. A tingling, buzzed sensation that engulfed my body and mind, my vision hazy, my thoughts clear and my eyes heavy-lidded. When silent, I could hear everything; the crickets moving their legs together in a gentle, lulling symphony. The grass swaying to and fro each time the wind swept across the fields before she ran through the trees and caused their branches to bend and swing. The rise and fall of Iorveth's chest as he breathed deeply and slowly, leaning back on one hand, strong nose pointed towards the skies as he puffed away, each star twinkling and sparkling more lucidly than ever. I laughed quietly.

As soon as the laugh left my mouth, Iorveth smiled, "I take it you like it?" I nodded slowly, placing my pipe on the ground and drawing my knees up to my chest, watching as he continued to stargaze. I looked up and pointed, "I can't see _Dana Méadbh,_ but perhaps you can you see my gods…there is Zerrikanterment, the golden dragon...mother of all dragons and of my land. I wear her around my neck for good luck." Iorveth squinted, moving closer to me and following the direction of my arm with his gaze.

"Hm."

A grin stretched across my face as I shook my head at his dismissal but searched the skies for one more dragon "And there…is Myrenthessis. The dragon god of mischief and woe - the one in the poems that children sing."

Iorveth paused, shoulders tensing and then relaxing and I felt him stare at me for a few seconds. I turned and our gazes held, heat rising as I found myself unable to look away. The way his thick, dark hair moved in the breeze, loose strands falling across his face, was captivating, as was the way he was looking at me; his expression soft, pale skin like marble in the moonlight, full lips slightly parted…

He kissed me.

He tasted like sweet, spiced wine and smoke. As soon as our lips connected, my arms draped around his neck, naturally and simply as if they were meant to fit there, his hands on my waist and pulling me into his chest. Iorveth's lips were soft against my own, the kiss simultaneously gentle and wanting; his energy excited yet self-controlled. I found myself pushed roughly to the ground, my hand on the back of his head, fingers buried within and tugging at his thick hair as he positioned himself between my legs, torso pinned against mine, hips grinding as we found ourselves feeding off of one another's excitement. I could feel him against my leg, aroused and hard through his woolen garments, hungrily pushing himself against me as he kissed and tenderly bit my neck. His panting was breathy, ragged and unsteady, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy as he trailed his lips across my skin, hands grabbing and squeezing at my waist and buttocks as I dug my nails into his back.

I guided his mouth back to my own and felt him smirk as I desperately pushed myself against him, my back arching as I breathed hard and silently pleaded for him to touch me, tormented by his teasing as his tongue danced with mine, our kisses growing evermore frantic and uncontrolled. His hands wandered greedily, fingertips tracing across my breasts before slipping beneath my shirt, encircling my nipples until they hardened, sending a warm and all-consuming wave of pleasure throughout my body. I gasped beneath his touch, slightly leaning upwards to bury my head into his neck and graze his skin with my teeth as he murmured enticingly in his own language.

I wanted him.

I wanted him to make love to me. To roughly fuck me as I lay moaning and writhing beneath him.

Never before had I felt so overwhelmed with attraction and euphoric arousal that I could not think straight, my mind focusing only on him and the intense feelings he had stirred within me. I could feel my undergarments sticking to me, my sex wet in anticipation, throbbing as we began to undress one another. After one long, passionate kiss, I pushed him from me and knelt, reaching for the cords that bound his leggings at the crotch, fumbling as I quickly tried to undo the loose knots. Iorveth groaned as I caressed his arousal with my free hand, one of his now shoved between my legs, stroking at it's centre through my clothes as I moaned gently and moved against him.

Just as I started to undo the last cord at his crotch, he stopped. I noticed his change in behaviour and blinked slowly, searching his face in confusion as he removed his hands from me. "I want you to take me…" I whispered eagerly, gently nipping the pointed tip of his ear. He inhaled sharply at the sensation but steadily placed his hands on my shoulders,

"Let's stop." My face screwed up, confused again but his expression was sincere, "Gods, I want you right now. I don't know how I've stopped myself, I want you that badly..." His hands slid to my waist, "But not like this." I watched with disappointment as his erection slowly became limp beneath his clothing, "Not when you're drunk and high."

I paused for a moment as we stood to our feet, Iorveth retying the unbound cords at his groin before leaning down to kiss me again. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the feeling of his lips pressed against mine, opening them only for a split-second. He pulled away and I forced myself to nod, "If that's what you want, then we can wait. Only it'll be much more difficult to once we're travelling alongside Aggi…"

Iorveth laughed as we strode down the hill and made our way back to the camp to indulge in whatever was left of the celebrations.

"I never turn down a challenge." The elf jested, re-adjusting the red bandana so that it covered his missing eye once more.

"I will hold you to that," I grinned, tying the material band around my waist and tucking a loose dreadlock behind my left ear, "We leave at first light."

 **Tawel'wch** _\- Silence_

 **C'nawes slaeth** _! – Kill the bitch!_

 **Cáemm** _– Come_

 **Am rh'yddid, hechyd ny scoia'tael _!–_** _To freedom, health and the Scoia'tael!_

 **M'hanncha _–_** _A sweetbread primarily found in Arab and Northern African countries_

 **In'heid** – _Half-elf_

 **Mrit'ghi** \- _Mongrel_


End file.
